Paul Butters
Paul Butters
Apr 5, 2015

Forsythias flower now,
A shock of yellow petals
Matching my Daffodils.
Pure yellow,
Brighter than the sun.
Galaxies of petal-stars
Hanging from spiral arms.
As numerous as a shoal of fish,
Or flock of birds.
Nature stuns us with its numbers.

Winter hangs on
With chilling grip.
But blossoms like these hold promise
Of warmer days.
My crocuses were first:
Defiant spears thrusting into the frosty air.
And now the second wave is here:
Flower after flower,
Bird after bird:
Robins and Blue tits,
Blackbirds and Sparrows.
Pesky gnats are out
As everything awakes
From hibernation.
Yes Spring is here,
Showing us once more
The sheer resilience of Life.

Paul Butters

There is a Forsythia right outside my window...
Mar 21, 2012

here blazing out,
is it tractor,
   center stripe,
      or school bus yellow?
A distant cousin to the olive tree.
Would that a rioting branch,
when offered,
would never fail to restore
tranquility and peace.

Forsythia enflamed,
Keith Collard
Keith Collard
Sep 15, 2012

Forsythia enflamed,
with unbudded rose,
together in bed,
together they grow.

thorn on bark climbed,
coming of red rose,
but yellow flames,
outed long ago.

Fiery petal pendant,
and rose hips,
in same bed,
but never to kiss.

Together in bed,
hugging in the cold.
no more vain red rose,
no more gold to behold,
but together in bed,
and together in the end.

basking 'neath forsythia,
Mar 15, 2013

Bereft of beauty
these distorted yesterdays
I run till I drop
basking 'neath forsythia,
heralding in seasons joy.

Forsythia blooms
The Lunchtime Poet

Silently sitting
out on my chair
Lilac scent wafting
up thru the air

Forsythia blooms
so yellow and bright
Peony flowers
a pure snowy white

Birds are singing
Songs set me at ease
Trees are growing
pollen makes me sneeze

Winter has loosened
It's icy cold grip
Now it's springs turn
to captain the ship

Mike Essig
Mike Essig
Apr 9, 2015

She was
the Queen of Spring;
even her softest sighs
could sing.

Daffodils sprouted
from her lips;
Lilacs grew
around her hips.

Tulips blossomed
in her eyes;
bedecked her thighs.

Oh, she really was
the Queen of Spring;
even her softest sighs
did sing.
  - mce

#love   #spring  
like thirsty, overheated forsythia, one
Jun 16, 2011

one halcyon summer, when
we strung ourselves out on fat couches, wilting
like thirsty, overheated forsythia, one
hundred or more crimson carcases found themselves
turned upside down on my floor. ladybugs discarded
from the designs of nature. i swept them under the bed.
i promise, when you die, i will not flick you out of sight
with a careless index finger (there will be sorrow, outrage, and flowers
picked clean of aphids).

Sep 5, 2016

mit ambivalente flyvske sind
skiftende mellem svævende og faldene
mine drømmescenarier todimensionalt
men alligevel så åndssvagt livagtige
forhåbninger og forventninger
som fatamorganiske spillefilm
forårsblomster sprang så fint og nydeligt ud
da græsset var vindstille og månen på halv
visnede dog inden længe
kun en kunne gro
den anden forfalde
når sollyset bliver erstattet af skygge
og belyser andre jordforbunde væsener
forsythiaer og syrener
de syv mørkerøde rosenknopper
dyrket med al din uvidenhed

To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment