‘Spring’s Rhyme’ and Other Poetry by Amy McCombs The Society February 6, 2013 Poetry Spring’s Rhyme Colour floods so slowly, Each petal takes its time– It blossoms near to holy As it enacts Spring’s Rhyme. The petals blush in summer And wither in the fall And wave to each newcomer Of their Garden Hall. One seems to blossom slower Than the rest as they spring up, But soon will grace the bower Within its leafy cup. For biggest nor most flashy Most often steals our hearts, But smaller, sweeter, graceful Play contemplative parts. Is spring but just a showtime Of biggest or the best? No, tis a new beginning– A renaissance of rest. For every heart that fails In the winter of the soul May blossom sure and graceful With the new hope of spring’s role. Shells Beading bracelets in the sand, Jewelry in a coastal span, In patterns we cannot discern; The waves then scatter, for our turn. Wanting much to see the world Little knowing, in you curled Lies chasms deep and not explored A world inside the one God poured. Shards come washing up upon The shore—a coastal Parthenon. In vict’ry rise you from the foam And in sand castles, make your home. Nestled, sandy, with shore views, As crabs curl up to read the news, And clams complain as if a muse Were there to give them that excuse. Sweet babbling of a time long past; You had Atlantis in your grasp. I hear soft echoes wash and fade As to the world shell-songs are played. Some day in winter out you’ll come, I’ll listen for the waves of some Past empire; When I am quite chilled, With shells’ soft murmur I’ll be filled. Euterpe The earth contains a song for every thing And joy to its containing mortals brings. The zephyr warbles trippingly and free And whispers gentle lyric songs to me. It sings a theme divinely thought upon With help from muses who inspire song. It whispers, sighs, and smiles in my ear, Murm’ring woeful strains or laughing cheer. The rustling slow-paced language of the trees Tell ancient tales to saplings at their knees. The birds that croon or flit about with joy Or fly o’er seas to call a far “Ahoy!” Or fauna’s lyric cadence uttered low Or naiads gentle breathing streaming slow— All earth sings lyric ballads unto me, Murm’ring soft, “Euterpe, Euterpe.” Winter’s End One hundred tiny branching fingers rise All spread about toward morn’s slow entrance nigh As twigs and branches reach toward glistening sky Whilst dawning mist falls gently—spring’s surmise One Thousand buds so softly whisper wise Of entrance down green, glossy stairs she’ll fly Great trees contralto hum, while wind sings high And faeries pop from nooks—Sweet Spring’s surprise ‘Tis spring! When dryads dance again in trees When Dark retreats to vernal boudoirs deep Grey gowns thrown off and black hues put to sleep And wriggling, come the sprites from Solstice lees Light plays upon the world as winter flees And em’rald arias are spring’s to keep. Amy McCombs is a sophomore Criminal Justice major and a resident of South Carolina. These poems are among the entries for the Society of Classical Poets’ 2012 Poetry Competition. Related Post ‘‘Til We Forgot: A Lament on Recovery’ by Amy F... “. . . lest when thou hast eaten and art full . . . then thine heart be lifted up, and thou forget the Lord thy God, which brought thee forth out of... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.