Good evening, fellow poets! Ingrid of Experiments in Fiction here, spinning some sonnets and Spring inspiration for this first Open Link Night of ‘British Summer Time’ here in the UK…our clocks went forward at the weekend, a fact for which I am grateful, as the time difference between here and the US was causing me no end of confusion up to this point!
We have been enjoying some beautiful spring weather, which lifts the spirits in spite of devastating events unfolding on the world stage. This juxtaposition puts me in mind of Blake’s poem ‘The Ecchoing Green:’
The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring.
The sky-lark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around,
To the bells’ cheerful sound.
While our sports shall be seen
On the Ecchoing Green.
Old John, with white hair
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk,
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say.
‘Such, such were the joys.
When we all girls & boys,
In our youth-time were seen,
On the Ecchoing Green.’
Till the little ones weary
No more can be merry
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end:
Round the laps of their mothers,
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest;
And sport no more seen,
On the darkening Green.
I realise it is not Spring all over the world, but wherever you are, you can always take inspiration from nature for your poetry, and follow the advice of another of my favourite poets, Wordsworth, in his poem ‘The Tables Turned‘:
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you’ll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun above the mountain’s head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! ’tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There’s more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless—
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:—
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
For OLN, you are invited to link up ONE poem on any subject, any form or free verse: the choice is yours. If you’re new to dVerse, here’s how we roll:
- Post a poem on your blog and mention or tag dVerse in your post (link back to this post if possible.)
- Link up your poem by pasting the link from your post into the ‘Mr Linky’ widget below.
- Spend some time reading and commenting on the other linked-up poems: we all come here to read and be read!
- You are most welcome to the pub: we are a friendly and encouraging group of poets united by a love of poetry!
I leave you with some music to celebrate the changing of the seasons: