Spring is here, the grass is riz!

 

Photo by Aniket Bhattacharya on Unsplash

Spring is here, the grass is riz.

I wonder where the birdies is?

The bird in on the wing.

But that's absurd!

The wing in on the bird. 

A Spring Morning by John Clare

The Spring comes in with all her hues and smells,

In freshness breathing over hills and dells;

O’er woods where May her gorgeous drapery flings,

And meads washed fragrant by their laughing springs.

Fresh are new opened flowers, untouched and free

From the bold rifling of the amorous bee.

The happy time of singing birds is come,

And Love’s lone pilgrimage now finds a home;

Among the mossy oaks now coos the dove,

And the hoarse crow finds softer notes for love.

The foxes play around their dens, and bark

In joy’s excess, ’mid woodland shadows dark.

The flowers join lips below; the leaves above;

And every sound that meets the ear is Love.

Here are two poems for this first full day of Spring - one silly, one to excite the senses. John Clare describes the sights, sounds and scents of Spring beautifully and there is such hope and joy in the final line.

Writing prompt:

• Go outside and spend a couple of minutes just standing or sitting, then write, for six minutes, about what you can see, hear, smell and touch. (Write outside if you can).