Posts Tagged ‘National Poetry Month’

When I was out walking yesterday I saw these lovely crocuses, complete with my first bee! Of course it makes sense that bees would like them, they are after all a flower, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bee on a crocus…or maybe I just don’t usually see bees so early?


Spring Crocus

Of course as it is National Poetry Month, I have to include a poem.

“The Crocus”

Beneath the sunny autumn sky,
With gold leaves dropping round,
We sought, my little friend and I,
The consecrated ground,
Where, calm beneath the holy cross,
O’ershadowed by sweet skies,
Sleeps tranquilly that youthful form,
Those blue unclouded eyes.

Around the soft, green swelling mound
We scooped the earth away,
And buried deep the crocus-bulbs
Against a coming day.
“These roots are dry, and brown, and sere;
Why plant them here?” he said,
“To leave them, all the winter long,
So desolate and dead.”

“Dear child, within each sere dead form
There sleeps a living flower,
And angel-like it shall arise
In spring’s returning hour.”
Ah, deeper down–cold, dark, and chill–
We buried our heart’s flower,
But angel-like shall he arise
In spring’s immortal hour.

In blue and yellow from its grave
Springs up the crocus fair,
And God shall raise those bright blue eyes,
Those sunny waves of hair.
Not for a fading summer’s morn,
Not for a fleeting hour,
But for an endless age of bliss,
Shall rise our heart’s dear flower.

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Seeing them I felt giddy with spring and this little ditty came to my head:

Little bee , little bee

are you as happy as me

theseĀ crocuses to see?



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I was so impressed by the old tree I talked about in my previous post that I couldn’t resist revisitingĀ it.

In honor of National Poetry Month, a fragment of Wordsworth:

This solitary Tree! -a living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay;
Of form and aspect too magnificent
To be destroyed.

(From Yew-Trees by William Wordsworth)

old tree

Old Tree Roots

Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree.

Hermann Hesse

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In honor of April being National Poetry Month, I thought I’d share a quick story of how I fell in love with poetry.

I loved the book Tirra Lirra by Laura E. Richards (AKA Mother Goose), and Dr. Seus became a favorite (I think it is for most kids…his work is so FUN); song lyrics stuck in my head from a young age. My father was very proud that I could sing “My Country Tis of Thee” at 2 years old (of course I did not know what I was singing…it was years later that the words made any sense to me).

But I still remember the moment I discovered I loved poetry: I found a copy of Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass” in our attic. I opened it and began to read. I didn’t understand it, but it gave me a forbidden rush feeling; I LOVED the sound of the words. I remember sneaking it into my room and reading it aloud to myself. It was truly beautiful to me and made me feel like I was flying.

Celebrate Poetry!

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