But Always Spring...

The piqued bud brims with unleashed hymns

Wonder waits to be wowed full-well

The eager earth pulses with birth

Where stark, dark bark-chords start to swell

Nature is not an idle thought

Or at the mercy of a whim

Beneath the nod of Holy God

Its orchestra magnifies Him

…and steals our breath where it seemed death

Had sealed the boughs of green unfurled

But always spring begins to ring

The bell that wakes earth's wonder-world

© Janet Martin

With each spring that passes the more its bud enthralls me!

Welcome, April

Happy, Happy April...

A complete darling of a poem...

 ...from this magazine

Welcome wind, with warmer whispers

Welcome world, more comely clad

Welcome work that turns to blisters

Welcome weather, April-glad

Welcome, sunshine between showers

Welcome, dapper daffodil

Making worthwhile all the hours

Leading to ‘welcome April’

Welcome brook-bedazzled cello

Serenading sky and sod

Welcome, purple-green-pink-yellow

Bursting from the hand of God

Welcome, welcome, winter-farewell

Welcome, wonderland of spring

Welcome, welcome sweet, sweet April

Primed with buds waiting to sing

© Janet Martin

Ah, April

Sorry for the unplanned hiatus!

Our internet is  'half' back.

It's blinking on and off while I'm trying to post this 

so if silence returns to the Porch that's why...

Here is a poem I wrote to bid April farewell

Ah, when we met you wore a threadbare robe of russet-gray

Now, when we part, your garb of green nigh-steals my breath away

Somewhere, my dear, between hello and farewell’s beating wing

You broke the seal that held at bay the bud bursting with spring

Ah, you were such a weather-beaten beggar when you came

Now heads are turning, hearts are burning with hope’s flower-fame

Ah, April, seems that you deserve more credit than you get

Where your ground-breaking, soul-awakening is wild and wet

Ah, artist’s overlook you in their ‘Magnus Opus’ Quest

But there is something about you that outshines all the rest

Where, dressed in modest Duty, kind, you tend to nature’s tasks

Showcasing spring’s stark Beauty before blossom breaks bud’s flasks

Ah, April, you’re a looker, in case no one tells you so

I fall in love with you and could not bear to see you go

Save for the flora-bundance poised like joy-banners unfurled

Because of you, the trail-blazer to every summer’s world

© Janet Martin

But Then Always May...

A few days ago hubby remarked to me that in two months the days will start to get shorter 

and we are still waiting for weather to turn spring-like! 

At this point I think we would settle for anything in double-digits Celsius for a few days in a row!

Earth is an egg waiting to be cracked

Nature agog with the life it had lacked

April is always a bit of a tease

Driving hope wild with her billowing breeze

Hunger feeds on flower-gardens of thought

Dreamlands run rife with forget-me-not

Hollow the wind through the wooing world wings

Looking for lyrics barred in budded strings

I spy the whisper of green, virgin green

Seeping through deeps where threadbare sweeps had been

April is always a slow work of art

Playing with colors of weather and heart

Soon we will slip from the grip of the gale

Watch as a fleet of sweet blossoms sets sail

Soon we will wade in jade silver-starred streams

April is always a river of dreams

Soon Spring will fling violets to field and dell

Soon on yon hill will chime the jonquil bell

Soon trees will burst with a hip-hip-hooray

April is always first, but then always May

© Janet Martin 

After seeing the forecast I/we decided to spend the day outside ! 

The Art of April...(Home of the Masters;-)

  PAD Challenge day 12: For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The Art of (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem 

 Every year Ontario-ans have a love-hate affair with April!

Artist that fuels the optimist’s grin

While colors duel twixt winter and spring

Sepia surface primed for floods of green

Suffers the surges of caught in-between

While high and low flings its yearly travail

Seasonal seesaw of zephyr and gale

Eager eyes scanning the soft-swelling bud

Waiting for wonders to fan from the mud

Where April’s artist, brush dripping with flow’rs

Teases the landscape with snow-stippled showers

Vexing and cheering with gold gilt then white

Unleashing tides of chagrin and delight

While hearts and temps, like golf-balls, soar then drop

Annual tug-of-war in Time’s weather-shop

Teaching the patron of petal-plumed flit

The fine art of patience while waiting for it

© Janet Martin

Ir's Master's Weekend! Looks like a good one. Enjoy!