Spring!

Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!

Alex Fischer

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Spring

Spring Spring Spring
is almost here

Spring Spring Spring
is the time to cheer

But when the rain comes
everyone won’t be glum

Spring Spring Spring
is almost here

Spring Spring Spring
the sky will be so clear

Spring Observations

Green slipped out from under the white –
Splashed in early other colours,
And gave up lambs, who
Bleated tirelessly on the subject.

Screams from the nearby park
Told of newly playful children, with
Bleary fathers; clattering mothers,
Undersense befuddled by a perfume –
It was the budding blossom.

And younger men perked up at
Early bosoms once again parading –
More blossom – audacious blooms:
Sexual selection back on stage.

It was happening with the birds,
Only there was more decorum,
More order – a greater sense of purpose;
Unwitting duty.

I turned over the soil – warming
Under the cautious sun –
Yellow still nubile,
Though coping with its shyness.
My first beads of sweat were oddly ambivalent:
Surging vigour forcing out the
Stubborn winter indolence.

Inside, a warming smile worked
Up towards my mouth, lips, eyes.
The kitchen window rattled:
Lunch was ready.

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Spring

A sense of warmth is tapping at the door;
And hope, a feeling out from distant lore
– Or so it seems – clears the deep refrain!

Emerging youth: a dormant lea awakes.
The raging colour, singing loud, partakes
In annual birth – spring is born again!

A zest anew for nascent life
Begins in floral train:
Carriage one: a snowdropp thrill;
Carriage two: the crocus;
Number three, a daffodil – dancing,
Drawing focus – as she would,
Attention seeker!

How I love our spring:
The bold and sleeker feel I get,
An inner glow, a ring!
I’ve paid the winter’s chilly debt, so
Now upon the wing!

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A Country Path in Late Spring

The path of mossy ground nestled
In between maternal hedgerows,
That overgrew atop, dimming out
The brilliance of the day.
Embosomed, a calm-cool vision –
Abstract takes of nature, in
Leaf-spattered green shades;
Stem-speckled brown hues;
Shards of sunlight percolating
Through the random flaws to
Up glittering sprites upon the leaves.

And avian chatter bounced along the burrow,
Smattered by the crosstalk
Of busybody insects;
But outside the green comfort zone,
Other worlds of other sounds of other life
Otherwise gave a hint of
Other dozy goings on.

Hawthorn filled the air,
Filled the nose,
Filled the head –
Pungency had overpowered all –
Gave the late-spring-early-summer haze.

Here and there a break of colour:
Odd bluebells – escapees from nearby woods –
Blue-blushing bell faces glancing down,
Aware of their erectness in the stem;
The flaming wing of red admirals
Broke through a hedge hole to
Break up the calm backdrop,
While flitting blue tits gave
To greater-bodied animation.

Nature’s warm narration –
The undertones of life.

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Daffodils

I fell in love –
Taken by the innocence of
Child-face daffodils;

Their perky April fanfares,
Clarion calls from yellow-ochre brass bands
Presaging, rejoicing, calling us:

‘Here we are! Here we are! ’

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