From Tasha:
I was thinking that Spring might be a good subject for our next prompt, however the word spring has at least 4 interpretations if not more, so I thought it might be fun to suggest we pick one or several or a combination of as many as wished for the effort.
Too easy when I can search my database. LOL. Here's my favorite spring poem.
ReplyDeleteTHIRTEEN VIEWS OF MY STUDENTS
inspired by Wallace Stevens
I
Amid thirty gum-crusted desks,
The only quiet thing,
One single student, Hazika.
II
I was of three minds,
To write up
Which of three students.
III
Armando whirls about the room,
Black spikes of hair still,
In the eye of his tornado.
IV
Jesus sits on Bethany’s lap, smirks.
I tell him Move. Jesus sits on Bethany’s
Desk, smirks.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The quiet of Queen
Or the sweet smile of Katrina just
After she disrupts
The class again.
VI
Icicles and many inches
Of snow make the grounds
Magical. Students shadows
Cross paths, to and fro.
I see
Carlita still wears
Slippers, not boots. My mood darkens.
VII
O teachers of Middle School.
Why do you imagine it is the fault
Of the students.
Do you not hear how they talk,
The speeches they have been taught?
VIII
I know nothing. Language
And habits of youth, inescapable
Rhythms I do
Not understand,
Always a heartbeat away
From my grasp.
IX
When Paris was gone, suspended,
I sigh, the edge
Removed from many circles.
X
The muddle of students
Flying in from buses,
Fills me with anticipation.
I breathe in sharply.
XI
From housing projects
In Waterbury, Connecticut,
Come children with fear
And rage that pierce them
With sadness. They walk in shadows,
My students.
XII
The hallway moves in unison,
quickly, quietly.
Some students must be fighting.
XI
It is, at last, spring all afternoon,
Windows open,
With this year’s snows at an end.
Students fidget,
Poke, talk. Bell. Spring Break.
such insight into your students lives. shows how much you truly cared. a powerful and loving write. love it!
DeleteVividly sharp pictures in your cogent style. So nicely presented. Thank you.
DeleteThis is a very touching poem. "they walk in shadows, my students"... I love this line...it gave me such a sadness that my throat swelled up and my tear ducts burned...
DeleteFound an old one that fits the theme. I will post it for now and if I get inspired with a new poem will post it later.
ReplyDeleteLast Leaf
In the spring buds grow on the tree
the buds become leaves
provide shade in the summer
shelter from the heat.
Come autumn the leaves turn
fall from the tree,
but one lone leaf hangs
as if the tree clings to it.
The tree must let it go
it falls to the join the others
scattered on the ground
nesting beneath the tree.
You grew in me
I nurtured you, loved you,
raised you and
like the last leaf you
tugged to be free from me,
pulled until I let you go
let you find life on your own.
Will you find what you seek?
In the spring new buds will appear
the leaves will return to the tree,
in the spring you will not return.
You were my last leaf.
Very nicely done. Have you ever read the O'Henry story? http://www.online-literature.com/o_henry/1303/
Deleteyes i had but had forgotten it! what a beautiful loving story. it was nice to read it again. thank you.
DeleteVery lovely poem you have given us. thank you.
DeleteI remember this poem. I loved it then and I love it now. It's very beautiful.
DeleteSince we are sharing older poems, here is one of mine; more later to be written.
ReplyDeleteSpringing Open
Brilliant forsythia fingers
fling their exuberance
into the bright blue air.
Red budding twigs
holler "here I am, shine on me."
Forsythia sunshine
fills my eyes, Maple flowers
jingle, "Welcome pollinating friends."
Spring buds open everywhere
blossoming their way into summer.
I like the double entendre in the title. Nice poem overall.
DeleteI love this poem!! Welcoming Spring with the many flowers. "Forsythia sunshine fills my eyes..." Forsythia does actually produce such a bright yellow that it does shine...
Deletewonderful imagery. the first line is a tongue twister though! forsythia fingers fling... whew! unless you meant to give us that tongue twister how about... forsythia fingers cast their exuberance... it's lovely either way.
ReplyDeleteHmm, never occurred to me that it was a tongue twister. I'll give it some thought. I like the alliteration though...Thanks for the kind words.
DeleteI wrote with flower juice
ReplyDeletebluebirds carried the note
the fragrance on the paper
was euphoric
I sent the note to heaven
to tell my munchkin mom
it's Spring again without her
we're all happy, but
we miss her and
her little garden that flourished,
her roses that bloomed all summer long...
I love this. And of course I can relate.
DeleteThank you Victoria. Right now she would be looking for the red winged black bird and calling me every day to see if I had seen any yet since that is the new sign that Spring is really here...
DeleteHow very sweet is this! Loved the images. Thanks for this sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Tasha, for your kind words. Hugs
Deletecute and sweet... mom sure did love spring. almost as much as you :-)
DeleteYes, Bonnie, Christmas and Spring always remind me of Mom and you're right I think I love spring more than she did. Spring is sprung, the grass is riz, I wonder where da boidies is? LMBO Mom's favorite Spring poem.
DeleteWe walked downtown
ReplyDeletewithout our coats
it was Sunday
going to the movies
Bonnie, Vinnie, and I
It was a short mile
we talked and smiled
all the way
counted robins
saw purple and yellow
crocuses, but we didn't know
not back then
It only took a little while
the line was a block long
cartoons all day was worth it
to we children
with enough money for
popcorn and candy
we loved the first days of Springs
after being cooped up all winter
the smiles, the laughter, the sun
soon it would be flip flop days
ah fond memories of yesteryear... lovely write.
DeleteI'd forgotten how much mom loved Spring. Thank you for the memories.
DeleteI'd forgotten how much mom loved Spring. Thank you for the memories.
DeleteNothing from the guys? What gives? What about bed springs, springs where water flows, springing to your feet....a spring in the step?
ReplyDeleteFinally, a poem incorporating all the definitions, hope someone sees it even though it's a bit late.
ReplyDeleteSpringing to life
buds on the trees swell,
pinking tips of trees
lining streets, putting a spring
into the step of passers by.
In the woods
A wellspring of birdsong
cascades melodies as the winged
and bright eyed flirt
among branches coming to life.
Deep in the hill a spring
bubbles its way
into a brook, and the brook
sings the way to the river
and the river to the sea.
All life springs forth
Racing to grasp the warmth
That shines from the sun
Rising steadily higher
As we circle into spring.
Tasha Halpert
Finally, a poem incorporating all the definitions, hope someone sees it even though it's a bit late.
ReplyDeleteSpringing to life
buds on the trees swell,
pinking tips of trees
lining streets, putting a spring
into the step of passers by.
In the woods
A wellspring of birdsong
cascades melodies as the winged
and bright eyed flirt
among branches coming to life.
Deep in the hill a spring
bubbles its way
into a brook, and the brook
sings the way to the river
and the river to the sea.
All life springs forth
Racing to grasp the warmth
That shines from the sun
Rising steadily higher
As we circle into spring.
Tasha Halpert