Gardens and Poetry of Springtime

Spring, first flowers, returning green, colorful birds active in the budding trees; this is the stuff of poetry.

Something about this time time of year always makes my gardener’s heart a little hopeful of the things to come and sends me scurrying for a volume of e.e. cummings. One of my favorite poets, cummings often wrote poetry besprinkled with the language of gardens and it is obvious that the poet had a soft spot for flowers and for Spring.

this is the garden:colours come and go,

this is the garden:colours come and go,

frail azures fluttering from night's outer wing

strong silent greens silently lingering,

absolute lights like baths of golden snow.

This is the garden:pursed lips do blow

upon cool flutes within wide glooms,and sing 

(of harps celestial to the quivering string)

invisible faces hauntingly and slow.

This is the garden. Time shall surely reap

and on Death's blade lie many a flower curled,

in other lands where other songs be sung;

yet stand They here enraptured,as among

the slow deep trees perpetual of sleep

some silver-fingered fountain steals the world.

e.e. cummings

What is your favorite flower or poem of Spring? Share it here!