#BeastFromTheEast

Beast From the East

It’s the first day of calendar Spring and the UK is in crisis. I’m not talking about Brexit, it is much more serious. We are in the grip of a visit from The Beast From The East. Schools have been closed, flights and train journeys cancelled and there have been reports of hand to hand fighting in supermarkets as traumatised Brits rush to stockpile food for the impending doom.

Although the slight covering of snow sitting on the grass outside of the Poetry Den have left me a little perplexed as to the hysteria, watching and listening to the news bulletins provides plenty of material for the poet.  Which brings me to the focus for today’s Thursday Thoughts, Spring Poetry.

Spring provides so much for the poet to write about. The beautiful blooms of snowdrops set against dark soil, the gold tinge of daffodil stalks about to bloom; and the sudden change of pace of the Robins, Blackbirds and Thrush in preparation for the mating season.

There have been many wonderful poems written about Spring and I thought I would share one of mine, To Spring, by William Blake. I would love you to share your favourite Spring Poem (maybe one you have written yourself) in the comments section to this post. The beast is forecast to hit our village over the next few days and I might need some uplifting Spring poetry to raise my spirits. And to accompany having to break into the emergency rations of Malbec and chocolate.

 

To Spring

 

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down

Through the clear windows of the morning, turn

Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,

Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!

 

The hills tell one another, and the listening

Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn’d

Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth

And let thy holy feet visit our clime!

 

Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds

Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste

Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls

Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.

 

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour

Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put

Thy golden crown upon her languish’d head,

Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.

 

William Blake.

 

 

22 Comments

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that’s gone astray, and is lost.

THE ENKINDLED SPRING by D.H.Lawrence.
Davy, I love the way the entire poem rests on the one central motif of ‘fire’, he never deviates from it and when I read it I feel I’m looking through his eyes at the ‘blaze’ that is spring. Great post !

Liked by 1 person

    This is an excellent poem Nigel, one I have not read before so thank you for sharing it. I read it again after your comment and having the theme of fire in your head does change the context of the poem. Spring is like a new fire starting, although the current weather doesn’t feel like it.

    Liked by 1 person

Davy, what a wonderful anthem to Spring and I read it with feeling and longing this bitter cold day! The wonders of a snow day that I felt yesterday has become one of huddled indoors for warmth. Luckily chocolate supplies still aplenty!

The following is about Springand so much more. By Christina Rossetti

THE FIRST SPRING DAY

I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing, robin, sing!
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.

I wonder if the spring-tide of this year
Will bring another Spring both lost and dear;
If heart and spirit will find out their Spring,
Or if the world alone will bud and sing:
Sing, hope, to me!
Sweet notes, my hope, soft notes for memory.

The sap will surely quicken soon or late,
The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate;
So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom,
Or in this world, or in the world to come:
Sing, voice of Spring!
Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing.

Liked by 3 people

    Thank you for sharing this wonderful Spring poem Annika. Christine Rossetti is one of my favourite poets and this is one I have not read before. It is warming me as I watch the Beast From The East roar outside of the Poetry Den window. Keep those chocolate supplies topped up 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Blake’s poem is just wonderful. A beautiful song to spring. A gentle and loving welcoming andpraise to all that spring means.
This first spring morning is bringing more snow and cold…..so we long, all of us long, for the new awakening.
Meanwhile I just choose a totally different angle but it is about spring and by Mary Oliver.

Spring

Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring

down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring

I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue

like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:

how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge

to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else

my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,

it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;

all day I think of her—
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.

Liked by 1 person

    Thank you for sharing this excellent poem Miriam from a poet I have not read or heard before. I love the contrasts she provides in this poem and the simplicity of her words and description which give a great depth and meaning to the poem. This is one of those poems Miriam that gives more the more times you read it.

    Liked by 1 person

Thank you Davy. I do like her poetry very much. Would you know that it took a long time before she was recognised by ” the establishment” for the very reason that her poems seemed too simplistic.
Funny is life

Liked by 1 person

Blake is so straightforward in many of his poems. Loved reading this, Davy, as I look out to see the burgeoning snowdrops (Blake’s ‘pearls’) and the yellow heads of daffodils breaking through the snow.

Liked by 1 person

What a beautiful post AND Blake poem in honor of Spring! 🙂
We had snow two days ago…so Spring hasn’t sprung here yet, but it won’t be long! 😀

One of my fav Spring poems is by E. E. Cummings:
(E E) Cummings

Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere )arranging
a window, into which people look (while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and from moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.

~~~~~

I write a lot about the seasons. Here is a haiku I wrote that mentions Spring:

welcoming Winter
closing the door on yellow
until Spring arrives
©CS.12.8.11

Spring HUGS!!! 🙂
PS…Stay safe and warm!
PSS or PPS…I need to google Malbec.

Like

OH, Okay! Malbec should keep you warm! 🙂 And chocolates will keep you sweet! 🙂

Liked by 2 people

Lovely post and comments, Davy! You started a Spring celebration with poetry.

The trees are budding where I live and we’re seeing the sun for the first time in several days. Not too much longer before March 20. 🙂

Liked by 1 person

    Ah yes Miriam the true start of spring. I am glad you enjoyed the poems and there are some excellent ones there. It is a wonderful feeling seeing the buds coming up on the plants and trees. Thank you for sharing that and have a good weekend 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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