Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts

Thursday, October 1, 2026

The Gift of Spring by Bob McAfee

Emre Ayata


The Gift of Spring

Promise me a warm embrace,

a color bright, a day that glows,

a moon at night that scuds and flows,

a rising sun that grows and grows,

a southern wind to bless my face.

Anoint me in this holy place.

Appoint me as your acolyte.

I am an eager neophyte

who longs to learn the mystic rite,

to read the runes and run the race.

Let me adopt the season’s pace.

Oh, give the gift of Spring to me.

I will invest it prudently.

A thousand times the yield will be, payment paid with style and grace.


© Bob McAfee


Enjoy more Posts by Bob McAfee HERE.



Bob McAfee


Bob McAfee lives with his wife near Boston. He has written nine poetry books, mostly on love, aging, and the natural world. Forty-nine publications have accepted 124 poems. He hosts a Wednesday night Zoom poetry workshop. His website, www.bobmcafee.com, contains links to all his published poems.

Friday, November 28, 2025

Poetry by LeeAnn Pickrell

Gioele Gatto

The Spring I Waited for the Dogwood to Bloom

Every day that spring

I watched 

Every morning

I walked out

my white robe trailing 

across the wooden boards

Splinters scratched 

the soles of my feet

My hands wrapped 

around a mug of coffee

steaming in the still cool air

I had come to the woods

to cocoon myself in green brush

and gray thunderclouds

as if in a room of my own

I could become

someone else deliberately

I waited 

for the lime-green blossoms to appear

the petals to unfold

toward the warming sun

The flowers faded to white

painting the forest 

in eyelet lace

When I emerged 

the dogwood blossoms had fallen

green leaves covered

the thin branches

I was only myself

yet softened by mornings 

I stood still enough

patient for once in my life

to see a dogwood tree bloom

First published in Jung Journal: Culture & Psyche, vol. 15, no. 2 (2021)


In the mail a spring morning

blossoms a new haiku 

tap tap of hammers as I meditate

crows skittering on the roof

crossing a suspension bridge

over a fast-running creek

walking the stations of a life

swimming hole

bench

waterfall

© LeeAnn Pickrell


Enjoy other posts by LeeAnn Pickrell HERE.


A person with glasses smiling

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LeeAnn Pickrell

LeeAnn Pickrell’s debut collection is Gathering the Pieces of Days from Unsolicited Press. Her chapbook Punctuated was published in 2024 by Bottlecap Press, and her book Tsunami is forthcoming in 2026, also from Unsolicited Press. She lives in Richmond, California. See more at www.leeannpickrell.com.

Sunday, August 24, 2025

Loss of Spring's Soul by Snigdha Agrawal

 

Jini Phm

Loss of Spring's Soul

Come, ye all,
and heed this call.
Spring’s bounty, bright and vast,
may soon fade with no place to hide

as AI strips clean, a poet’s mind.


Beware: They'll capture thoughts.

They’ll steal the enlightened souls,

turning free thoughts and dreams into cold.

And the Spring’s vibrant hues, we know,

may wither away; fail to grow.

In the algorithms' silent sweep,
Spring may be archived in files.

So, poets, rise and let us fight
to keep the heart of Spring in sight.

If we don’t timely intervene,
our minds will forever stay asleep.


© Snigdha Agrawal

Enjoy more posts by Snigdha Agrawal HERE.

Snigdha Agrawal


Snigdha Agrawal (née Banerjee) holds an MBA in Marketing and has over two decades of corporate experience. She enjoys writing in all genres, including poetry, prose, short stories, and travel diaries.  Educated in Loreto Institutions, run by the Irish Nuns, and brought up in a cosmopolitan environment, she has learned the best of the East and West. She is a published author of four books.  Her works have appeared in several anthologies and e-journals, published in India and overseas. She has recently been nominated for the 2024 Pushcart Prize in poetry.

Saturday, July 26, 2025

Spring’s Reassurance by Snigdha Agrawal

 

Vicky T M


Spring’s reassurance

Spring arrives with a grand flourish
Jasmine bushes burst into bloom

Perfuming the air, nourishing the mind

Creating an aura of divine 
Yet, her mind lags behind

Vines twist and tangle,
thick as can be
even the old wicker fence
sprouts new green leaves
Yet, her mind lies infertile 

She mutters, “Unfair!
Nature runs wild.
Even bald trees regrow
After a while!”

Why has her mind died?

Spring, with a knowing smile, replies…

“Be kind to yourself, dear one.
Just like the bloom waits for morning's light,
You, too, will blossom, 

When the time is right”.


© Snigdha Agrawal

Enjoy more posts by Snigdha Agrawal HERE.

Snigdha Agrawal


Snigdha Agrawal (née Banerjee) holds an MBA in Marketing and has over two decades of corporate experience. She enjoys writing in all genres, including poetry, prose, short stories, and travel diaries.  Educated in Loreto Institutions, run by the Irish Nuns, and brought up in a cosmopolitan environment, she has learned the best of the East and West. She is a published author of four books.  Her works have appeared in several anthologies and e-journals, published in India and overseas. She has recently been nominated for the 2024 Pushcart Prize in poetry.

Monday, March 10, 2025

Songs of Nature by Sarah Das Gupta


Songs of Nature 


The voices of Spring sound clearly in the percussive music of water. The snow melts in the high mountains. Streams clash against rocks. The watery roll of drums roars and crashes in majestic turmoil. In the valleys the river splashes and plays on the trailing strings of willow and elder.


The wind tunes up with a soft breeze, plucking playfully at the first flowers. White wood anemones bend and dance to rippling notes from winds of the South. New leaves try a tentative whisper, a plea to the storm clouds to wait for the crashing crescendo of brass which will mourn the death of Summer.


Now the first cuckoo call, the rise and fall of nature’s clarinet overture to Spring and rebirth. The blackbird’s cascade of notes echoes from the budding elm. In the grey layers of twilight, the ring dove’s soft tone rinses the ear, as sweetly as any oboe, in the scented air.


© Sarah Das Gupta

Enjoy other posts by Sarah Das Gupta HERE.

Sarah Das Gupta

Sarah Das Gupta is an 82-year-old, handicapped poet from Cambridge, UK. She started writing poetry in 2022 after an accident that has prevented her from walking more than a few meters. Her work has been published in over twenty countries. Writing has enabled her to travel and communicate with many people through words.



Sarah Das Gupta 
 
Sarah Das Gupta is an 82-year-old, handicapped poet from Cambridge, UK. She started writing poetry in 2022 after an accident that has prevented her from walking more than a few metres. Her work has been published in over twenty countries. Writing has enabled her to travel and communicate with many people through words.


Friday, November 15, 2024

Ode to a Yard by Barbara Leonhard


Photo © Barbara Leonhard


Ode to a Yard

The backyard, now a room.

The teeming branches

of the pin oak, red bud,

and elm stretch into a canopy.

We leave part of the lawn alone

to sow a meadow. Violets, clover,

dandelions. Tall patches of native grass

go to seed. Periwinkle blushes

on the yard’s borders.

Gardening tools laze about

atop a disheveled log.

The garden soil, dry, still not tilled.

The metal spikes that held last year’s tomatoes linger,

supporting withered stalks.

Clustering around the far edge,

a thick crop of never-fail oregano.

Elsewhere, batches of volunteer kale

surprise us.

On the garden's edge, a hose lies coiled

ready to strike.

Inside on a counter, seed packets sit

waiting for soil and sun.

© Barbara Harris Leonhard

Enjoy more posts by Barbara Harris Leonhard HERE.

Barbara Harris Leonhard

Barbara Harris Leonhard is the author of Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir (2022) and The Lost Book of Zeroth (2025). She is the co-author of Too Much Fun to Be Legal (2024) and Broken Rengay: Unruly Poetry (2025). She’s a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. Trending Poets named her Poet of the Year more than once. Her poetry has been translated into Italian, Albanian, and Chinese. She is the Editor for MasticadoresUSA and FEED THE HOLY. Her blog is Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver. 

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