Spring Steps In
O, with welcomed, raptued sighs,
the meadow, at last, spring came and called.
With long and twisting, budding eyes,
the trees lavished their green-entralled.
The flowers offered their best perfumes
to scent her sacred bed while birds
wild with their holy tunes danced about
her garland'd head.
I think that when the leaves are just budding on the trees and not fully out yet they are like the trees eyes.
Something for spring. It's just a rough draft. Might not be as good as the last. What do you think?
This is quite lovely. The imagery is clear and elegant, creating a wonderful spring picture of a tree in the meadow, attending by songbirds. I think it is a beautiful poem. Thank you.
Reply:that doesnt rhyme. butit is very descriptive good job!
Reply:i dont like it. sorry. i hate spring, so that might be part of it
Reply:awww so pretty!!! i wish i could be a good poet like you
Reply:I see what you mean about the leaves budding.
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