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Posts Tagged ‘spring’

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She tells him with glee

that the robins have arrived

right on time

and the first honeybees

are busy in the heather.

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He pretends to listen

but she knows he doesn’t hear –

he’s busy paying bills

also right on time

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so as usual

she just notes the new arrivals

on her calendar

and mentions them

in the rough draft

of a poem.

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© 2020  Betty Hayes Albright 

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Baby spider, no bigger

than a pinhead

snuggles next to the sink

for three days,

sustained by dust motes

and a sip of water

from a speck of mist

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until this morning

when she fluffs him

into a tissue

and he rides willingly

through the house

and out the back door

to the garden, and then

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as if knowing,

he drops down

into the leaves

of the orange Calendulas

which have just begun

to bloom.

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(c) 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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Baby leaves unfurl

from trees planted long ago —

tendered new in spring.

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© 2012, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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Originally posted in 2012… revised.

(Photo from 2012)

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O vernal sun,

come sweeten the rain

as you plant your secrets

under thick moss —

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lend the forsythia

pots of gold

and warm the stones

that circle our garden —

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let poppies buzz

and sword ferns uncurl

as Earth becomes great

with tender.

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(c) 1994, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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An old one, never published here… that I know of.  

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Wishing everyone in the northern hemisphere a beautiful Springtime!  🌷 

And to all of us – north, south, east, west – may love, wisdom and peace someday reign on this mixed up world of ours. 💚

 

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Earth’s belly growls

when the wind

scours the valley

and rain swells the sky.

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Shadows loosen,

pressing more tightly

under rocks,

clinging closer to fences

and trees.

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Flickers arrive

flashing new red

under their wings

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while down below

the garden stirs —

and Gaia’s favorite color

is green.

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(c) 1994, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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Primroses!

how winter thins

as shadows quicken

in sunlit trees

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as dew swells

the un-sheared lawn

with promises, promises

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and dreams are joined

at the wing.

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© 1993, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright 

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March 15, 2009 morning 004

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Spring and winter spar

rain mixes with something white

snow teases the vine.

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©  2012, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-posted from 2012)

 

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Time Out

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They leak outIMG_5538

from the calendar –

seconds, minutes lost.

They steal away

into the fog

and freeze to winter’s frost.

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I close my eyes

and there’s an hour

missing from the day.

It turned into

a floppy kite

and spring blew it away.

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Dripping

through my fingers

another day has gone,

evaporated

yesterday

from summer’s placid pond.

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And soon a year

has fallen

bright confetti on the ground

and I wonder

if we’ll ever have

the time to just slow down.

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© 1992, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(….and another 26 years has flown by since writing this….)

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(a re-post)

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He trekked north

with the vernal sun

carving his name

across her sky

and as he touched

those new frontiers

she wondered, had anyone

conquered her so?

When spring returns

will the sun reach as high?

Or will it stop short

of her maiden arc,

and will she hear wild geese cry?

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(c) 1996,  2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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Words

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Music rises from her garden,

goes off key

and disappears

into the sky.

Curious, she digs

with her bare hands

past dead roots

and rotting leaves

into birthing soil.

And there she feels a rhythm

pounding in the earth,

and the rise

of sacred humming

in her ears.

She drops a seed

into the hole

and out sprouts a melody

that grows into a tree.

Wind sings in its branches

and for the first time

in her life

she understands the words.

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© 1996, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised)

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