When I was just as far as I could walk
From here today,
There was an hour
When leaning with my head against a flower I heard you talk.
—Robert Frost, The Telephone
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
—William Wordsworth, Lines Written in Early Spring
I used to like being young, and I still do,
Because I think I still am. There are physical
Objections to that thought, and yet what
Fascinates me now is how obsessed I was at thirty-five
With feeling older than I was: it seemed so smart
And worldly, so fastidiously knowing to dwell so much
On time — on what it gives, what it destroys, on how it feels.
—John Koethe, A Private Singularity
If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze
that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb
—Billy Collins, Today
Crabapple blossoms, blown,
fall and flutter down,
littering like confetti
the main street of our city.
Confetti… the simile
quickens, and you and I
walking sometime later
amidst the drifted litter
come to realize
that we feel ill at ease
in this belated beauty
since, if it is confetti
it means we have missed
some great things seen by most:
—Bill Coyle, Fallen
Trickles through my fingers, ensconced in a dune cleft, sun
Warmed and breeze cooled. This peace is full of sounds and
Movement. A couple passes, jogging. A dog passes, barking
And running. My nose runs, a little. Just a drip. Left over
From winter. How long ago it seems! All spring and summer stretch
Ahead, a roadway lined by roses and thunder. “It will be here
Before you know it.”
—James Schuyler, Hymn to Life
I could clean
The garage, weed the garden,
Or get out the shears and
Prune the rose bushes back.
Yes, a thousand things
This beautiful April morning.
But I’ve decided to just lie
Here in this old hammock,
Rocking like a lazy metronome,
And wait for the day lilies
—Robert Hedin,This Morning I Could Do A Thousand Things
I love this post. Some great pictures. It looks like you may even work in the field. And, the poems set them. Well done.
What he said. This is just plain great stuff.
i love this.
the photos and the poems.
and the fact that you went through the effort to post this for your public.
i love day 1 because it speaks to me of the power of nature in the universe.
i love day 3 because it’s where i am right now.
good post, gypsybug.