September puts a Spring in my Step.
Like a newborn lamb I frolic about
Running through fields of newly grown grass
With a smile on my face I sing and shout.
With Winter gone, I now enjoy you.
Beautiful Spring, I’m so glad you are out.
When the days grow shorter and rain clouds Fill the sky
Trees no longer have green leaves and the flowers Begin to die
Nights are drawing in and the days are getting shorter
Mist rolling up the valley streams with ice
In the water
But time does not stop and winter will fade away
When the dark cold will be no more and
We have the start of warmer day
Thats When the leaves on the trees turn green and the birds will start to sing.
So remember that winter will eventually end and new life will start in spring.
This existence, a marvel of the creative mind, is to find ourselves living in a world of possibilities. The dualism of yin and yang creates a vast arena for personal growth. The viable stage of real-life experiences colors our time here and in the depths of Shakespearean melodrama that make up the days of our lives, dictating the value of a life that ends in death. Other entities that we share the details of this existence with, the life, love, and the path best taken to reach that perfect place, not an easy affair to work through the trials that make it all worthwhile. To break on through to the other side, where the finish line and loved ones patiently await our triumphant return!
Summers
Sweet gone you
Miss your flowers and flora
Call me again needs you
Your energy was
Beautifully vibrant
Can heal my wounds surely
All my life, I witnessed many times,
People walked into my life,
Quickly we shared our soul and mind,
Then, for one reason or another
They eventually disappeared.
Some abruptly and left me with wonder,
Some with excuses and left without a trace.
Others just not interested and gone for ever.
It took me almost one year,
To let BB goes without a closure.
The way JC come and leave,
Triggered me emotionally upset.
JN on the other hand,
This was the second time,
She repeatedly made false promises,
Despite I asked her to focus.
Make no mistakes nor errors.
She just did not listen,
Bad things kept on happened,
Led me to make decision,
Our friendship must end.
It was quite ashamed,
The way the relationships came and went.
Autumn
A northwest breeze gently caresses my face,
and nine days linger until first day of fall.
Each change of seasons I readily embrace,
I see cascading leaves and hear Geese that call.
winter
Then comes winter with it’s seasonal blast,
when often, tree branches, wear winter attire.
Frequently this season leaves me downcast,
but the smouldering fire becomes my pacifier.
spring
Then buds sprout and grass begins to green,
spring always brings with it new birth.
I watch songbirds as they sing and preen,
and plant things that grow in God’s rich earth.
Summer
Summer is the season of some harsh extremes,
a sweltering heat index often affects my inhaling.
It conjures up my visions of rippling streams,
each season becomes a portrait God’s unveiling.
springtide …
blows a tender kiss
tickling blossoms on a plum branch
to loose their grasp, giggling
whirling and winding in
the sun like drunken, gilded pixies
capricious in their flight
a whimsical drift -
aromatic and elegant …
flawless, like the wishes of a child
floating to purpose, afar -
to alight on a dream
enigmatic, joyous, true …
as blessed in their journey as they
are in the order of their
exquisite design -
as charmed in their prospect
as they are in their
perfect, resplendent sacrifice …
sacred essence of being
lifeblood of existence -
the bright, brisk
glorious morning breath of
nature …
itself.
Copyright © 2022 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
Springing here,
Blooms dance, sunshine wafts,
Feel our smiles.
In the springtime of my life,
I hear the birds, singing delight
Crooning the hope through my worst strife,
Silencing shadows with sweetest insight
In the summertime of my life,
I hear the whisper of leaves, alive
Telling a story of when I’m filled with strife
Pouring out hope, assured I’ll survive
In the autumn of my life,
I hear the music of stars at twilight,
Revealing the music of hope despite strife
Rising in victory, the music He’ll write
In the winter of my life,
I hear the praise of each sunrise
Coloring my world beautiful despite the strife
When death comes, there’ll be no surprise
In the days that leave me unsure,
I hear the beautiful of a God who is true
And I know, all this fear and doubt I’ll endure,
Knowing that my heart, He will surely renew!
Sweet-scented breeze when wafts around,
A thrilled Koyal breaks into song,
On tree branches fresh sprouts abound,
On her face, love-making gone long,
Pearly sweat beads do when alight,
To whom would a scene not delight?
_______________________________
Translation (sestet*) | 33.08.2025 | spring, night, delight, nightingale, nostalgia
*Wonder, if it can be called a Sestetto Rima-- iambic meter with a rhyme scheme of ABABCC.
Note: Here is a verse (in Harini meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). The poet paints here a picture of a spring season in full spell: when fragrance wafts around, tender sprouts surround, a Koyal sings, sweat beads alight from her face from prolonged coitus, who’d not get delighted? Here is the transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Parimala amrtah vatah shakha nava-ankura-kotayo,
Madhura-viruta-utkantha vachah priyah pika pakshinam |
Virala surata sveda-udgara vadhu-vadana-indavah,
Prasarati madhau ratryam jatah na kasya guna-udayah || 37 ||
“The serenading wind whispers the song of emotions
the rhythm of the longing heart listens to articulate” – By Poet
The sunburst sky sprays surreal spectrum
on the dew diadem of emerald meadow.
Floral colors compose spring symphony
floating on the cadenced flow of joyous zephyr.
The wind entices me with blissful tune,
as the argentine moonbeam suffuses me
with the gorgeous gleam of pristine passion.
The cascading cadence of zephyr concerto
drifting from the harmonic plateau of delight,
makes melodic ripples in my heart’s lilac lake,
pulsating with eclectic pace of ecstasy.
I then feel the wondrous southern wind waft
with your scintillating scent to allure me
to the amorous ambience of your grace.
Its silver sequins swing with the refrain
of the mesmeric moonbeam melody,
resonating with the echo of rapture
of the timeless sonata of your spring,
I long to hear when I listen to the wind.
The misty mask of winter ambience melts away,
turning the sky into a cobalt cauldron,
from where the ambrosia of spring descends
with sequined aura through the diaphanous air.
Gossamer clouds gorgeously embroidered
with the wispy ribbons of regal robe appear.
The sunburst sky sprays surreal spectrum
on the dew-crowned emerald meadow.
On the cadenced flow of joyous zephyr
floral fragrance finds the aromatic course,
trails the beguiled butterflies flittering
in the rhythmic waves of spring symphony.
The serenading wind entices me with blissful tune,
argentine moonbeam suffuses me with gracious gleam.
The cascading cadence of the concerto of zephyr,
drifting from the harmonic plateau of exultation,
makes ripples of melody in the lilac lake of my heart,
pulsating with the eclectic pace of endless ecstasy.
I then feel the wondrous southern wind wafts
with your scintillating scent to allure me
to the amorous ambience of your grace.
Its silver sequins swing with the refrain
of the mesmeric moonbeam melody,
resonating with the echo of rapture
of your spring’s timeless sonata, I love
when I listen to the wind.
Buds burst spring colors beneath blue skies,
fragrant lure beguiles butterflies.
The crescent settled
behind you, wrapped in silk night,
wearing jasmin orange behind her ears.
I wondered: if she overheard
our brewing midnight; could she tell?
From the gleaming stars in my eyes
that I’m nothing if not a sailor
lost in azure, in awe
of treasures shimmering silver.
In the heat of silence, could she hear?
The pounding, quickened steps of
spring, sprinting across time—
Frogs break free from their winter hide,
I hear blushed wings hum
impromptu tunes of perfection, and kisses
that felt like summer grass’s touch.
Sealed, in the envelope
addressed to spring when she catches up.
Yellow goblet blooms of crocus wild
I ran among, once as a child.
Specific Types of Spring Poems
Read wonderful spring poetry on the following sub-topics:
beautiful, change, equinox, first day, flowers, hope, life, love, romance, school, showers, transition
and more.
Definition | What is Spring in Poetry?
Poems Related to Spring
autumn, summer, winter, hope, hop, flexibility, leap, bounce, prime, flowering, budding, springtime, budtime, vernal equinox,