First day of spring - poet's corner

[Diane CBPFC]

First day of spring.
a poem by Diane C.B.P.F.C.

In England the daffodils are waving
Frantically in the breeze saying, ?look at me?,
And the tulips are warming the awakening flowerbeds
With their cheery red, lilac and yellow blooms.

In some places in the world, birds are chirping,
Singing their joyful springtime melody
Flittering about building nests and preparing
Their place in the abiding earth song.

In Paris, women in pink lipstick
Shop for sandals with a spring in their step
As the weak, warm sunshine gently caresses
Their shoulders and their hair.

But not here.
Here in Alberta, the snow is thigh deep
I wear clunky winter boots.
And throw snowballs at mangy moose.

[Colin]

 
What about Scotland? 

[Diane CBPFC]

First day of spring - the Colin adaptation.
a poem by Diane C.B.P.F.C.

In England the daffodils are waving
Frantically in the breeze saying, ?look at me?,
And the tulips are warming the awakening flowerbeds
With their cheery red, lilac and yellow blooms.

In Scotland, birds are chirping,
Singing their joyful springtime melody
Flittering about building nests and preparing
Their place in the abiding earth song.

In Paris, women in pink lipstick
Shop for sandals with a spring in their step
As the weak, warm sunshine gently caresses
Their shoulders and their hair.

But not here.
Here in Alberta, the snow is thigh deep
I wear clunky winter boots.
And throw snowballs at mangy moose.

[Roger Kettle]

A mooseterpiece.

[Diamond Lil]

Spring came to Perthshire this morning
Off to work went I, sans vest
Bloody hell, thought I by lunchtime
As the snow hit my vestless chest

[Roger Kettle]

What can I say, Sis? That's every bit as good as anything Mr. Diamond's done.

[Malc]

My favourite spring poem isn't that lake district Daffodils nonsense, it's from the Bronx.

Spring has sprung,
Da grass is ris
I wonder where da boidies is?

[Diamond Lil]

Our father (as in Roger's and mine) used to finish that with...

"The boird is on the wing
Now ain't that absoird
I always tot da wing was on da boird"

[Malc]

...or "the burrd" as certain residents of Bute would have it.

[Malc]

Down here in the Southern hemisphere, we're leaving Summer to come into Autumn. Summer in the sub tropics is bloody hot. It's not a poem, but here...

[Mince]

Some people say I have a spring in my step
But I actually have a spring in my arse
That's now missing from that decades-old sofa
That I sat down on way too fast.

[Elizabeth]

OK - not a "spring poem", but it is spring, and it is a poem (ish)

"The blackbird once was white as snow
But that was many years ago..."

[Colin]

Talking about birds and poems, I liked this one.

I woke early one morning,
The earth lay cool and still
When suddenly a tiny bird
Perched on my window sill,
He sang a song so lovely
So carefree and so gay,
That slowly all my troubles
Began to slip away.
He sang of far off places
Of laughter and of fun,
It seemed his very trilling,
brought up the morning sun.
I stirred beneath the covers
Crept slowly out of bed,
Then gently shut the window
And crushed his f***ing head.
I'm not a morning person

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

That's beautiful, Colin. Sniffle!

[Roger Kettle]

Though some would call it piffle.
D'you see what I'm doing here? I pretended Tarky's post was the first line of a limerick and then carried it on!!!!