free book, Give Away, Poetry

Spring Blooms. A Poem.

26 Comments

This poem is taken from my poetry book, January to June, One Poem a Day Book 1.

It isn’t the poem for today, but today’s was rather short, so I picked tomorrow’s instead!

The hedgerows and woodlands are looking lovely with the spring flowers.

A mantle of gold is thrown over the heath;
The gorse is in bloom, spread over the ground.
Wonderful memories it does bequeath 
As its delicate perfume spreads all around.
Golden, as well, are the banks by the road
With dandelions like small shards from the sun.
Primroses, cowslips and celandines explode
Their colour, as if it were shot from a gun.

Pools of pale lilac cover the verge
With the beautiful flowers of ladysmock.
In April and May these flowers emerge
And behind them, grow the tall leaves of the dock.
In woodland the ground is covered in white.
Not snow, but a small and delicate flower.
Wood anemones nod their heads in delight
As the breeze blows in a gentle shower.

Wild cherry and blackthorn are white in the hedge
Blossoms promise of fruit yet to come.
In autumn we make sloe gin from the pledge
They gave us, as they ripen in the sun.
Spring is a time for renewal and growth
As all nature wakens again.
Our hopes are renewed, as she fulfils her oath
As we listen to the song of the wren.

If you like my poem, you can get book 1 as an ebook for free. There is one poem to read every day from January to June. Then book 2 takes up the poems from July to December.

The books are also available in other formats from your favourite online store.

Click to get my free poetry book.

What is your favourite type of poetry to read? Do you enjoy poems written in the modern way, or are you a person who prefers more traditional types?

Let us know in the comments.

Discover more from Dragons Rule OK. V.M.Sang (author)

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

26 thoughts on “Spring Blooms. A Poem.”

  7. I like any poetry that consciously uses the rhythm and music of words to condense an idea or emotion in a way that isn’t possible in prose, or at least isn’t as efficient and forceful. It doesn’t matter to me if a poem rhymes or adheres to a strict form, as long as its essence isn’t sacrificed to following the specifications.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

        1. They are a lovely sight. There was a bluebell wood near where I grew up. We loved playing there and picking the bluebells to take home. It wasn’t forbidden, then. They smelled so lovely, too.

          Like

        3. It’s illegal to pick most wild flowers in the UK. When I was a child, there was a woos with lots of primroses (a different one from the bluebell wood) at the edge and a bank of cowslips opposite. People came out from the towns, and either picked them indiscriminately , or even dug the plants up. Now there are very few there, although I think they are starting to come back in recent years.

          Like

Leave a reply to Jacqui Murray Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.