who knows if the moon's
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
( and if you and I should
get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people
than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where
always
it's
Spring)and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves
Stichwörter: flowers spring astronomy moonlight balloon hot-air-balloon luna lunar
TO what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
Stichwörter: life poetry beauty poem seasons april spring poems
We can't possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name's become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It's a sad season of life without growth...It has no day.
F. Scott FitzgeraldStichwörter: april spring june summer charlatan september august july
So the nymphs they spoke,
we kissed and laid.
By noontime’s hour
our love was made.
Like braided chains of crocus stems,
we lay entwined, I laid with them.
Our breath, one glassy, tideless sea,
our bodies draping wearily,
we slept, I slept so lucidly,
with hopes to stay this memory.
Stichwörter: love poetry sleep spring nymphs coming-of-spring
Creativity is not so much a boundless well, but an all-you-can-eat buffet of elements for your creative endeavor.
Eventually you've eaten your fill, and it's time to digest and then make something.
But at some point, it will be time to return to the restaurant.
Stichwörter: food creativity spring creating create restaurant nourishment well source buffet digest nourish wellspring
Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?"...
"It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine...
Stichwörter: beauty children nature classic spring
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead.
Stichwörter: winter spring daffodils sunlight
Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring?
Neltje BlanchanIt is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.
Rainer Maria RilkeStichwörter: earth spring poems-of-blood-and-passion
A Robin said: The Spring will never come,
And I shall never care to build again.
A Rosebush said: These frosts are wearisome,
My sap will never stir for sun or rain.
The half Moon said: These nights are fogged and slow,
I neither care to wax nor care to wane.
The Ocean said: I thirst from long ago,
Because earth's rivers cannot fill the main. —
When Springtime came, red Robin built a nest,
And trilled a lover's song in sheer delight.
Grey hoarfrost vanished, and the Rose with might
Clothed her in leaves and buds of crimson core.
The dim Moon brightened. Ocean sunned his crest,
Dimpled his blue, yet thirsted evermore.
Stichwörter: spring
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