Home
The Sun by Sara Dickson

The Sun by Sara Dickson

by | Apr 28, 2026 | Poems, Poetry, Spring Poems

Blaze, sun, blaze you fire streak,
Above horizon ashen sneak,
Specked with brilliant heat from molten core,
Ball of flames such orange pumpkin,
Burning object, many lore.

A gleeful creature shed rays of light,
Bring swift end to blanket night,
Lava white pinpricks vanish far,
Seen not 'till the moon prevails,
And sky so soft is dipped in tar.

She with fame a myth ruled over day,
Angel pure free from decay,
Deity honored with many precious gift,
Bow down to her majesty,
Sacrificed poor lamb so swift.

But she, a terrible being slaughter,
Stole away liquid, took the water,
Dried the life, said died of thirst,
Wrinkled hopeless fruit from limb,
Not only blessing, 'tis the worst.

Sara Dickson

Ode To Nature by Walter Safar

Ode To Nature by Walter Safar

by | Apr 20, 2026 | Nature Poems, Poems, Poetry

I'm looking at the starlit sky,
I'm looking at the timeless heavenly plough land,
Along which the Father sows the seed of eternal light.
I'm looking at the falling star,
Mercifully weaving the magic light
Above the lonely dreamer on his path of dreams -
Let us hurry, not for our sake, not for lost dreams,
But for the future -
I'm looking at the drop of rain on the wild rose's petal
Early in the morning,
How it trembles in its purity and nakedness,
Like an angelic clear tear on the face of an abandoned woman;
I'm looking at the rose in early bloom
Waking and offering itself to the brand new day
Like a woman to her beloved -
Once you shall return and wipe away the tears
We kissed and smelled under the Northern Star's light together -
I am humbly looking at the sun as if it was a heavenly blacksmith,
Welding harmony within human souls.
I am looking at the centennial oak,
As if it was an eternally young pharmacist,
Offering its healthy medicine for free.
I'm looking at the tree's straight posture,
Drowning its young branches
In the embrace of the sun's golden light,
While the wind is brotherly fondling its wrinkled face,
Whispering on about its thousand years of loneliness and loving -
Don't be afraid to fall in love, love is the seed of new life -
I'm looking at the man who doesn't hear
Nor understand what nature is trying to tell him.

Ode to Nature

When Silence is Heard

by | Mar 30, 2026 | Poems, Poetry

When silence is heard poem

In quiet rooms where whispers fade,
I hold the words I’m slow to trade.
No eager ear nor friendly gaze,
Just watchful walls that keep my days.

A thousand thoughts like scattered sand,
Slip through the spaces of my hand.
Who counts them all? Who hears them fall?
He knows. He listens. Knows them all.

I need no crowd to weigh my heart,
No vows that fail or drift apart.
When voices fail and doors are shut,
He is enough. My soul is shut.

The secrets kept in silent air,
He gathers gently in His care.
The tears I hide behind my eyes,
He measures deep. He hears my sighs.

When no one stays and none remain,
He mends the seams of unseen pain.
In quiet trust I find my part:
He is enough to fill my heart
When silence is heard

Spring

by | Mar 26, 2026 | Poetry, Poems, Spring Poems

Spring

By Elfriede Jelinek

Translated By Michael Hofmann

april breath

of  boyish red

the tongue crushes

strawberry dreams

                                  hack away wound

                                  and wound the fountain

and on the mouth

perspiration white

from someone's neck

a little tooth

has bit the finger

of  the bride the

                                  tabby yellow and sere

                                  howls

the red boy

from the gable flies

an animal hearkens

in his white throat

                                  his juice runs down

                                  pigeon thighs

a pale sweet spike

still sticks

in woman white

lard

an april breath

of  boyish red

The Spring

by | Mar 26, 2026 | Spring Poems, Poems, Poetry

The Spring

By Thomas Carew

Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost

Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost

Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream

Upon the silver lake or crystal stream;

But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth,

And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth

To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree

The drowsy cuckoo, and the humble-bee.

Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring

In triumph to the world the youthful Spring.

The valleys, hills, and woods in rich array

Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May.

Now all things smile, only my love doth lour;

Nor hath the scalding noonday sun the power

To melt that marble ice, which still doth hold

Her heart congeal'd, and makes her pity cold.

The ox, which lately did for shelter fly

Into the stall, doth now securely lie

In open fields; and love no more is made

By the fireside, but in the cooler shade

Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep

Under a sycamore, and all things keep

Time with the season; only she doth carry

June in her eyes, in her heart January.

At the Equinox

by | Mar 25, 2026 | Spring Poems, Poems, Poetry

At the Equinox

By Arthur Sze

The tide ebbs and reveals orange and purple sea stars.

I have no theory of radiance,

                but after rain evaporates

off pine needles, the needles glisten.

In the courtyard, we spot the rising shell of a moon,

and, at the equinox, bathe in its gleam.

Using all the tides of starlight,

                we find

                vicissitude is our charm.

On the mud flats off Homer,

I catch the tremor when waves start to slide back in;

and, from Roanoke, you carry

                the leafing jade smoke of willows.

Looping out into the world, we thread

                and return. The lapping waves

cover an expanse of mussels clustered on rocks;

and, giving shape to what is unspoken,

                forsythia buds and blooms in our arms.

Pin It on Pinterest