Friday, March 21, 2014

Poetry Friday - Is It Spring Yet?

I failed to post a poetry stretch this week. Suffice it to say that a snow day on St. Patrick's day in VIRGINIA took me by surprise.

It still doesn't look like spring yet. I so hope it gets here before we head straight on into summer. Here's a little Emily Dickinson to usher in the season.

Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat—
You must have walked—      
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,      
I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the bird’s;
The maples never knew
That you were coming,—I declare,
How red their faces grew!      
But, March, forgive me—
And all those hills
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.      

Who knocks? That April!
Lock the door!
I will not be pursued!
He stayed away a year, to call
When I am occupied.      
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame.

Do check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Julie Larios at The Drift Record. Happy poetry Friday friends.


  1. Thanks for this little bit of spring.

  2. Nice! There is so much Emily Dickinson love this week! Spring must have arrived. :)

  3. Breaking Into Blossom

    "If I stepped out of my body, I would break into blossom."—James Wright

    There is that moment every spring,
    when the green runs through your veins.
    When that juice rills and fizzes through you,
    even the tips of your hair tickle with it.

    When the light slants off your lashes,
    fans into your eyes, you see through a new color,
    blossoms fall from your lips, leaving a sweet taste
    of honey in your mouth.

    You step out of your body
    and blow yourself like milkweed
    into the path of the wind.

    ©2014 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

  4. Love this! I'd never read it before. She's got that wonderful sass -- "That April!
    Lock the door!"

  5. I think April is the new March in Ohio.

  6. I love that poem! It's so wild and full of energy. Just great. I hadn't read it before either. Thanks for posting!

    Releases her
    Scent, christening coats of
    Chartreuse onto me, sneezing to

    (c) Charles Waters 2014 all rights reserved.