Spring Again to Spring Sense the mighty ocean breeze, Silver star above, remember; I heard a red-nosed chicken sneeze, That bird thought, ‘twas still September. A daisy in the desert grows? It is the wrong direction; Far better then that cow she lows, When she finds the grain perfection. Ah, sad ‘tis the fateful day, When the bluebells cannot ring; And if indeed I lose my way, How shall I spring again to spring? But wait, all is not yet done, ‘Tis now the first month of the year; Many weeks more still to run, So why shed I that bitter tear? It's better yet glad to remain, The whole year we have yet ahead; Thankful be they're not the same, Leave that sad, hot tear unshed.
Reason for writing:
A friend invited me to come along to a Poetry Sweat. I had
never heard of such before so my curiosity got the better of
me. We were given 10 words to incorporate into a poem and
allowed 15 minutes to do it. It took about 10 but I
couldn't understand my own writing fast enough do did badly
in reading it; no matter it was great fun anyway and I have
the excuse I'm a singer, not a poet. Following the
suggestion to learn something of modern poetry by reading
Lorna Crozier I ended up here and again thought why not
stick my neck out a little bit farther.
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Bob McIntyre Aries.