Sunday Poetry: Spring

Welcome to Sunday Poetry.  We began this page in March, and if you didn't join us then, don't worry.  This is a drop-in, drop-out adventure.  You can read about the purpose and inspiration behind Sunday Poetry here.    

What's your part?  Just slow down a little and come along for the read–or sometimes, for the listen.  If you'd like to tell us what the day's poem means in your life, or what word or phrase you've chosen to reflect on, or where those reflections have taken you, we would be honored.  But there are no demands or imperatives.   If I have something to add, I will.   If you have something to add, please do.

Today's poem is by William Blake, a lusty hosanna to spring.  Since this poem is in public domain, I'll quote here.  With spring and May Day  in mind I searched for a poem that captured the utter simplicity of the season, with no guile, no laments.  I found this on www.portablepoetry.com, and I thank them for publishing it for us to enjoy.

Spring

by William Blake (1757-1827)

Sound the flute!
Now it's mute.
Birds delight
Day and night.
Nightingale
In the dale,
Lark in the sky,
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.

Little boy
Full of joy,
Little girl
Sweet and small.
Cock does crow,
So do you.
Merry voice,
Infant noise,
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.

Little lamb
Here I am
Come and lick
My white neck.
Let me pull
Your soft wool.
Let me kiss
Your soft face,
Merrily, merrily we welcome in the year.