It’s been a long winter; let’s start National Poetry Month with some seasonal haiku.
A Cold Spring
So chilly is the spring,
My little tea plants quite forget
They should be blossoming!
The Perfume of the Plums
Shoha (d. 1600)
So sweet the plum-trees smell;
Would that the brush that paints the flower
Could paint the scent as well!
In spite of cold and chills
That usher in the early spring
We have the daffodils.
In keeping with the daffodil theme, we’ll add a William Wordsworth classic too.
I WANDERED lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed–and gazed–but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,