Tell-tale Signs of Joy to Come (on the laughing tide of life)

 Today's prompt from Robert Lee Brewer for poem-a-day challenge

For today's prompt, take the phrase "Tell (blank),"

replace the blank with a new word or phrase,

make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.

In Ontario we are in the see-saw season of

'ah, spring, oh, winter, ah, spring, oh-h...'

Beneath the garden bench crocuses beam with plucky grace...

Futile to try to pry the bud to haste the bloom, or seize

A broom to sweep dustings of snow from hills and streets and lanes

To everything a season; soon the nakedness of trees

Will don fresh fronds of emerald lace and lofty leaf-refrains

Nature is never anxious, never ruffled by protest

It does not miss a beat, no matter how we rue its pace

Ah look, in the crook of the apple tree, a robin's nest

Beneath the garden bench crocuses beam with plucky grace

Foolish to chase the wind or shake an ineffectual fist

At Old Man Winter clinging to what not-a-one can keep

Ah, let him roar and war against the tug of shores, sun-kissed

Soon soft zephyrs will dance across meadows dappled with sheep

Futile to fret. Let hope whet appetites for joys at hand

As the first tell-tale signs of spring intensify until

Nothing can stem the laughing tide of life that sweeps the land

With green grandeur, pink blossom-blush and yellow daffodil

Janet Martin

Spring Waltz (Mariage d'Amour) Chopin

The first line in the 3rd stanza drew me to Ecclesiastes!

The endeavor...

Eccles.1:14

Ecclesiastes 1:17
So I set my mind to know wisdom and madness and folly;

 I learned that this, too, is a pursuit of the wind...

Ecclesiastes 2:11

Yet when I considered all the works that my hands had accomplished

 and what I had toiled to achieve, I found everything to be futile,

 a pursuit of the wind; there was nothing to be gained under the sun.

Ecclesiastes 2:17

So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. 

For everything is futile and a pursuit of the wind.

Ecclesiastes 2:26

To the man who is pleasing in His sight, 

He gives wisdom and knowledge and joy,

 but to the sinner He assigns the task of gathering and accumulating

 that which he will hand over to one who pleases God.

 This too is futile and a pursuit of the wind.

Ecclesiastes 4:4

I saw that all labor and success spring from a man's envy of his neighbor. 

This too is futile and a pursuit of the wind.

Ecclesiastes 4:16

There is no limit to all the people who were before them. 

Yet the successor will not be celebrated by those who come even later. 

This too is futile and a pursuit of the wind.

Ecclesiastes 6:9

Better what the eye can see than the wandering of desire. 

This too is futile and a pursuit of the wind.

The conclusion...

Ecclesiastes 12:13
When all has been heard, the conclusion of the matter is this:

 Fear God and keep His commandments,

 because this is the whole duty of man.

The Wonderful Season of Spring

 Happy First Day of Spring!☔🌞⛅🌷

You wouldn't know it from looking outside today,

in southern Ontario, but...

...(For) lo, the winter is past,

The rain(or snow?) is over and gone.

The flowers appear on the earth;

The time of singing has come,

And the voice of the turtledove

Is heard in our land.

Song of Solomon 2:11-12

This 'turtledove' is thinking...'shoulda brought my skates!'

This is the season of birth; earth awaking

Of somber landscapes donning garb of green

Of seed-sized hope renewed; of undertaking

Sowing’s rush hour, stoking dusty sheen

Of barren bowers clothed by nature’s seamstress

Of bud-looms bursting with God-woven lace

Of yellow flares of forsythia bushes

Of sunbeams kissing a smile to each face

This is the season so fondly awaited

Welcomed with wide open windows and doors

When Old Man Winter’s ego is deflated

Slowly but surely he softens his roars

Robins return, with lusty chirrup-hellos

Fresh bounce buoys the gait of Farmer Brown

The stream lures fishing-rods with whistling fellows

Daffodils wander through country and town

Blossoms, like blush fireworks flare and fizzle

Gardens grant glimpses of Eden-like winks

Dream and dirt merge with zeal’s refurbished sizzle

Faith is the substance of planting, methinks

This is the season of green-gladdened laughter

Of showers and flowers and mornings that sing

This is the season summer follows after

This is the wonderful season of spring

© Janet Martin

Last week we enjoyed some pre-spring celebrations...

This is the non-stop action outdoors today!

First Signs of Spring

Blue and gray canopy 

laden with showers

Bashful green filigree 

kindled with flowers...

Landscapes the color of weathered burlap...

Bird-warble wakening earth from its nap...

Robins return with their antics and lays...

Treetops still barren are ringing with praise...

Bleak garden canvases start beckoning

Exciting artists with first signs of spring...

Blue and gray canopy laden with showers

Bashful green filigree kindled with flowers

Lengthening daylight and dusk lingering

These are a few of the first signs of spring

Landscapes the color of weathered burlap

Bird-warble wakening earth from its nap

Stiff breeze and soft zephyr tug-of-warring

Thrilling our thoughts with the first signs of spring

Robins return with their antics and lays

Treetops still barren are ringing with praise

Bleak garden canvases start beckoning

Exciting artists with first signs of spring

Raindrops plip plop in a wild hip-hop dance

Sun-kisses tease eager hearts with romance

Sugar-shacks teem with maple-tree’s sweet fling

Drizzling warm pancakes with first signs of spring

Windows edge upward to let in fresh air

South-facing porches are graced with a chair

Pretty pussy-willow bouquets are purring

From front hall tables with first signs of spring

Refurbished rivulets ripple and glim

God, its great Maestro and joy, its glad hymn

Unfurled, like silver ribbon-song shimmering

Winding through meadows in first signs of spring

© Janet Martin

Pretty pussy-willow bouquets are purring

From front hall tables with first signs of spring...

Wind-song of Hope

It rings in nature’s thoroughfare

It sings in dawn’s hurrah...

It steals into each dewdrop kiss...

It flickers on the woodland wick

Aura of imminence

Ignites the budded candlestick

In mossy ambience...

It rings in nature’s thoroughfare

It sings in dawn’s hurrah

And rouses in the heart a prayer

Of never-ending awe

It flickers on the woodland wick

Aura of imminence

Ignites the budded candlestick

In moss-green ambience

It steals into each dewdrop kiss

It heals the broken dream

And to a world with much amiss

Florets unfettered stream

It lilts in warbling rondelay

It bursts with fresh belief

It waves winter’s chill wind away

With silky handkerchief

It refuels the poet’s pen

Benison of blue sky

Crowns worship’s refurbished amen

With wonder’s my-oh-my

Nothing compares to its cajole

This rival of defeat

Revives, restores, renews the soul

With anthems, warm and sweet

It tickles even stiffest lips

With hint of giddy grin

And kindles kind companionship

To all who let it in

It brings a bounce to farmer’s gait

Eye on yon graying slope

And satisfies war-sighs of ‘wait’

With Spring’s Wind-song of Hope

© Janet Martin

After a frigid, rainy week we are welcoming 

a warmer, sunny start to a new week!

Job 37:21-24

Now no one can look at the sun,

bright as it is in the skies

after the wind has swept them clean.

22 Out of the north he comes in golden splendor;

God comes in awesome majesty.

23 The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power;

in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.

24 Therefore, people revere him,

for does he not have regard for all the wise in heart?[b]”

Like Spring Chamber Music With A Twist

PAD Challenge day 14: 

For today's prompt, we're going to try something a little different

 in that I want you to write an "And Now for Something Completely Different" poem. 

This prompt is inspired by the Monty Python skits that would suddenly shift gears, 

but your poem doesn't have to be humorous. 

It should aspire to be somehow different than what you've written so far this month.

We laugh at robin antics...

Like an invitation to spring’s festival, the sun

Unfolds the earth at daybreak, beckoning to everyone...

Like an invitation to spring’s festival, the sun

Unfolds the earth at daybreak, beckoning to everyone

To rise and shine like little lights of love into a world

To slow swift pace and pause where nature’s vendors are unfurled

Like gentle chamber music, and admission is free

A festival of bars and phrases primed for poetry

Where no one is elbowing neighbors for a better view

(Although we wouldn’t mind, on this fine day, a nudge or two)

Because we are honored to be part of this happiness

While wandering through April’s festival of friendliness

We laugh at robin antics as they sing, a merry troop

And praise this perfect…what the heck?!!!

Aw! I just stepped in dog poop!!!

© Janet Martin

April Quadrille

 PAD Challenge-day 13-For today's prompt, write a forgive poem. 

Green murmur on the meadow...

First timid tufts of flora...

Green murmur on the meadow

 New nest tucked in the brush

And on the verge of birth, a surge

Of calm before the rush

A bud pulsing with promise

A garden, primed with dreams

A zephyr. soft, blue sky aloft

Earth, bursting at its seams

Marmalade-misted morning

Sweet, sun-kissed afternoon

Silhouette-show of dusk’s tableau

‘neath tusk of opaque moon

First timid tufts of flora

Nature’s most modest plumes

Presents its charms to open arms

And eyes, thirsty for blooms

The ground, like Berber carpet

Where tender bare feet dance

Earth’s spartan sweep cannot long keep

Its pristine countenance

April arouses laughter

Wakes joy akin to Heav’n

A robin’s trill, a daffodil

And winter is forgiv’n

© Janet Martin

Spring Drumroll

PAD Challenge Day 8-For today's prompt, write a homograph poem.

(similar to homonyms??)

One bashful crocus beneath a garden-bench partly began this drumroll for me😎

also, this happy *pear, oops pair, (*homograph) 

the other evening contributed as well

(thanks to a mediocre zoom lens)

I was trying to tiptoe in to get a better angle after this zoomed-in shot below

(because I couldn't see the female duck)

but, my movement alerted them and away they flew

w-a-a-y up-brook...

I heard a herd of thund'ring feet; a feat of sweet delight

The road where Old Man Winter rode away upon is bright

With hopes and dreams; it seems the seams that held tight for so long

Are bursting with fair fare of flowers, bare trees bear first song

Bored bystanders board bustling barges laden with a world

Of fond, fawned fantasies about to be bee hives unfurled 

The cold, bold way of snowflakes bowled over with buds that weigh

The sum of what some see as a sea of blossom-hooray

Where earth, a berth of birth responds to reign of rain cajole

I heard a herd of thund'rng feet; a feat called Spring Drumroll 

 Janet Martin

PAD Challenge day 3-Waiting for spring

PAD Challenge day 3-For today's prompt, write a connection poem.

My daughter sent me this picture of Dear Granddaughter, and three words

Waiting For Spring🌺☔🌞

'Do I have your permission to use it with a poem?' I asked 

to which she replied 'of course'

Ah, just beyond bedraggled fronds of remnant drifts of snow

Beyond the umber overtones before green starts to show

Beyond the gate where we still wait with umbrella in hand

While raindrops waltz from leaden vaults across storm-sobered land

I sense the steady trundle of a sturdy wagon heaped

With a three-season bundle to be sown, tended and reaped

Ah, just beyond the pond still chilled with winter’s aftermath

I hear the dance of bare feet spilled to dusty garden path

And like a teapot tipped to pour sweet sips of mint or chai

I feel the earth, an eager cup lifted to catch the sky

Where just beyond the bondage of what Time alone sets free

I sense an immense barrage of buds turned to melody

Ah, just beyond the wall we cannot scale or clap apart

I sense the love and laughter of a color-happy heart

After winter has gone the way of every winter-old

After earth’s rags of brown and gray are laid with green and gold

After the part after the art that draws ajar spring’s gate

I know once more we will admit that it was worth the wait

© Janet Martin

Ah, just beyond the pond still chilled with winter’s aftermath...

After the part after the art that draws ajar spring’s gate...

When Earth Starts Dancing With First Fragrances of Spring...

 

This poem began the other day as I, like 'last year's pup' also sought the southside deck...

...delighting in first sightings of robins, and song-sparrow warbles and killdeer cries

Sometimes when earth starts dancing with first fragrances of spring

When robin song romances winter’s wearied weathering

It rouses frames filled with fond scenes of days, long left behind

With ways that will not change in spite of change’s ceaseless grind

It brings to mind pictures of school girls, hopscotch, skipping ropes

Of farmers whistling, with fresh bounce in steps of buoyed hopes

Of mothers cooking suppers for fresh-air keened appetites

Of pussy-willow ‘kittens’ and brook-song’s restored delights

Of puddles where paper boats sail, where little children ‘fish’

Of pebble-pennies lobbed, kerplunk, laden with Dreamer’s wish

And the wild rush of freedom as temperatures start to soar

And coats are tossed and cheeks are flushed with sun-kisses once more

Of last year's pup sprawled on south-facing deck for mid-day snooze

Of fantasies of feet freed from time-thieving socks and shoes 

Of picnic-baskets trundled to a perfect place to sit

On blankets spread a world away, as far as rules permit 

Of blue, blue rafters crowning girths, heady with birth, bud-rife

Of laughter, rising, falling on the carousel of life

Of scents, woodsy and pungent, kindling an impatient urge

For violet and forget-me-not and dandelion splurge

Or, countryside at sunset, swaddled in gold-embossed scrims 

Where silky dust-scarves waft from furrows stoked with planting hymns

Or the certain return of frantic, plaintive killdeer's cry 

Or whack! as baseball bats find sweet spots and outfielders fly  

Or muddy boots, where pastures were not wander-ready yet

Or bucket-garnished maple-trees snaring sap-pirouette

Or new-found loot, like sparkly stones, or shells where oceans roar

Or pop bottles to cash in for treats from the corner store

...and willow-wand's first feathered fronds before its sighing sheen

And prickly perches on creeks banks before stiff thatch turns green

Where ragged cattail-paupers wait for warmer streams to wade

But cheered by the shrill ripple of spring-peeper serenade 

I’m glad, when earth starts dancing with first fragrances of spring

I realize for all the changes life is bound to bring

The keepsakes that I treasure no modern progress can claim

Because children and nature are still very much the same

© Janet Martin

(a few tidbits from last year...because we're not quite there yet)