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Losing an extra hour of sleep tonight spring ahead! :)

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When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces,
The mother of months in meadow or plain
Fills the shadows and windy places
With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain;
And the brown bright nightingale amorous
Is half assuaged for Itylus
For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces,
The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.

Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers
Maiden most perfect, lady of light,
With a noise of winds and many rivers,
With a clamour of water, and with might;
Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet,
Over the splendour and speed of thy feet;
For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers,
Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night.

Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her,
Fold our hands round her knees, and cling?
O that man's heart were as fire and could spring to her,
Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring!
For the stars and the winds are unto her
As raiment, as songs of the harp-player;
For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her,
And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing.

For winter's rains and ruins are over,
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.

The full streams feed on flower of rushes,
Ripe grasses trammel a travelling foot,
The fait fresh flame of the young year flushes
From leaf to flower and flower to fruit;
And fruit and leaf are as gold and fire,
And the oat is heard above the lyre,
And the hoofèd heel of a satyr crushes
The chestnut-husk at the chestnut-root.

And Pan by noon and Bacchus by night,
Fleeter of foot than the fleet-foot kid,

Follows with dancing and fills with delight

The Mænad and the Bassarid;
And soft as lips that laugh and hide
The laughing leaves of the trees divide,
And screen from seeing and leave in sight
The god pursuing, the maiden hid.

The ivy falls with the Bacchanal's hair
Over her eyebrows hiding her eyes;
The wild vine slipping down leaves bare
Her bright breast shortening into sighs;
The wild vine slips with the weight of its leaves,
But the berried ivy catches and cleaves
To the limbs that glitter, the feet that scare
The wolf that follows, the fawn that flies.




Edited by Nungali
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(I hope the formatting holds up)


i thank You God for most this amazing

day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes


(i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the suns birthday; this is the birth

day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth)


how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any-lifted from the no

of all nothing-human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?


(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)


e.e. cummings


Edited by soaring crane
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If you turn the clocks forward in spring ... then you lose a hours sleep surely?????


Or am I confused.


We don't do this till end of March.

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Anyway not to be outdone:



The Moon and Spring


we don’t write about death only about life


the dead do not write


just as the chicken that's now in the pot


didn't know the recipe


line after line I write about life


I could do the same about the moon or birds or spring


but with the ground the sky and the days to come I make a box


and when the birds the spring or pleasures


manage to distract me


poets’ muse though they may be


I choose not to write

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LOL OK I think I was confused. It was 11pm one minute on my phone and my computer, then 10pm the next minute..... I had text messages at 10pm that came in at "10:36" and were listed after a phone call at 11pm...


As long as I wake up by the time my employee gets here Sun morning it's all good ;).


I'll change the title of this thread...

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ok, I logged in on my laptop just so I could fix that image up there ^^


Nice poems, guys :D

3 degrees isn't very warm, C or F.

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Meh ..... what difference does it make (to me) most of the time what the clock says is irrelevant except saturday morning so I know when to turn up for training and once a month to make my chiropractor appointment. I refuse to wear a watch ... always have.


I did like DST when I worked at the Hospital though ... finish at 3 and that gave another 4 hours of good light for blasting the motorcycle through the National Park, going to the beach , etc.


Its autumn here ... havent had a flood yet or any real sign of the wet season.

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