April, Remy Belleau April, pride of woodland ways,
Of glad days,
April, bringing hope of prime,
To the young flowers that beneath
Their bud sheath
Are guarded in their tender time;
April, pride of fields that be
Green and free,
That in fashion glad and gay,
Stud with flowers red and blue,
Every hue,
Their jewelled spring array;
April, pride of murmuringWinds of spring,
That beneath the winnowed air,
Trap with subtle nets and sweet
Flora's feet,
Flora's feet, the fleet and fair.
April, by thy hand caressed,
From her breast
Nature scatters everywhere
Handfuls of all sweet perfumes,
Buds and blooms,
Making faint the earth and air.
April, joy of the green hours,Clothes with flowers
Over all her locks of gold
My sweet Lady; and her breast
With the blest
Birds of summer manifold.
Daffodil and eglantine
And woodbine,
Lily, violet, and rose
Plentiful in April fair,
to the air,
Their pretty petals do unclose.
Nay, but I will give my praise,To these days,
Named with the glad name of Her
That from the foam o' the sea
Came to be
Sudden light on earth and air.
What a lovely poem, Ann...7 stanzas with a 7-3-7-7-3-7 syllable format: what is that called, do you know? I used to know all types of poetic styles, not so much anymore! Of course the wording paints a perfect picture of spring; and the accompanying photos of your blooms adds to the presentation just right! You do have some pretty plants popping up from their winter slumber. Happy Spring;-)
ReplyDeleteI don't know a lot about poetry, but I know what I like and...I liked your April poem and your blooms. Wow! Used the word "I" a lot, didn't I?
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