While from the purpling east departs The star that led the dawn, Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts, For May is on the lawn.
—William WordsworthLive in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.
—Henry David ThoreauThere is not time enough on earth For all I’d like to do; But, having lived and having toiled, I’d like the world to find Some little touch of beauty That my soul had left behind.
—Edgar Albert GuestI was born to water On an island in the sea. The surf outside the window Each night put me to sleep. Waves against the shore Rumbled cobbles On the stormy coast.
—Conrad NeumannToday is the day when daffodils bloom, Which children pick to fill the room, Today is the day when grasses green, When leaves burst forth for spring to be seen.
—Robert McCrackenFair Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain’d his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run.
—Robert HerrickA moondew stars her hanging hair And moonlight kisses her young brow And, gathering, she sings an air: Fair as the wave is, fair, art thou!
—James JoyceMidnight on a carousel ride Reaching for the gold ring Down inside Never could reach it, just slips away But I try.
—Robert HunterMarch is the month of expectation, The things we do not know, The Persons of prognostication Are coming now.
—Emily DickinsonBeauty is everlasting. And winter’s burial is not. Underneath cold winter bone, the flesh of summer sleeps.
—Peggy FreydbergDoes my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells, Pumping in my living room.
—Maya AngelouWhat is love? ’Tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What’s to come is still unsure; In delay there lies no plenty.
—William ShakespeareToo beautiful to go back to sleep The morning sprite before the sun Black silhouetted trees that edge the world Respeak stillness as night’s undone.
—Peter LedermannLittle January Tapped at my door today. And said, “Put on your winter wraps, And come outdoors to play.” Little January Is always full of fun; Until the set of sun.
—Winifred C. MarshallBare branches of each tree On this chilly January morn Look so cold so forlorn. Gray skies dip ever so low Left from yesterday’s dusting of snow.
—Nelda HartmannThe way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.
—Robert FrostThere are two seasonal diversions that can ease the bite of any winter. One is the January thaw. The other is the seed catalogues.
—Hal BorlandThe clock is crouching, dark and small, Like a time bomb in the hall. Hark! It’s midnight, children dear. Duck! Here comes another year.
—Ogden Nashlittle tree little silent Christmas tree you are so little you are more like a flower who found you in the green forest and were you very sorry to come away?
—e.e. cummingsLight the first of eight tonight — The farthest candle to the right. Light the first and second, too, When tomorrow’s day is through.
—Aileen Fisher