"Spring" by Frederick Walker‘Winter Ends and Spring Begins’ by Wendy Bourke The Society March 21, 2018 Beauty, Poetry 16 Comments in the woods, I stop in twilight dim … as spring throws off the evening’s hoarfrost coat midst groaning fir and shivering bare limb I hear the spirit whisperings that float on ragged winter-worn breaths sighing through the ancient dark depths in capacious folds of days-end mystic green to primal blue … the frozen still white world has lost its hold – it melts in water trickles and the stir of scurried swish and fauna-crack-on-twig and chirr, and caw and warble and sweet chirp – ruffles through the sand, dry grass and sprig: as life, in time, is given and is taken the dead earth – once again – begins to waken Wendy Bourke lives in Vancouver, Canada where she writes, goes on long rambling walks gathering photos and inspiration – and hangs out with her family (especially her two young grandsons). After a life loving words and scribbling poetry lines on pizza boxes and used envelopes, Wendy finally got down to writing “in earnest” and four years ago, began posting poetry on her poetry blog and submitting it for publication. She received first prize in the Ontario Poetry Society’s Sparkle and Shine contest in 2014 and her work has appeared in dozens of anthologies, journals and chapbooks. Related Post A Translation of André Chénier’s ‘Elegy XX’... Born at Constantinople in 1762 of a French father and Greek mother, André Chénier grew up in pre-revolutionary France and studied at Paris. Well-read,... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 16 Responses Joe Tessitore March 21, 2018 Very beautiful – a masterpiece of a word-painting! Reply Wendy Bourke March 21, 2018 What a lovely comment! Thank you so much. Reply David Hollywood March 21, 2018 Very lovely. Thank you. Reply Wendy Bourke March 21, 2018 And thank you, for taking the time to read and comment. Reply Joseph Charles MacKenzie March 21, 2018 Yes, this strikes that lyrical note I am always looking for. A Shakespearean sonnet with the couplet used to good effect. This poem truly exploits the structures in a beautiful, evocative way. There is quite a bit going on in terms of sound, so that we are treated to the euphony of spring itself in a way. This is exactly the kind of poem that restores poetry itself to its original lustre. This is Ars Poetica Nova poetry. Reply Wendy Bourke March 21, 2018 Thank you for such a thoughtful and engaging comment. Reply Amy Foreman March 21, 2018 Lovely, Wendy. Reply Elizabeth March 21, 2018 The sounds! The imagery! Simply stunning. Reply David Watt March 21, 2018 The final couplet is particularly striking and satisfyingly rounds off the many vivid images preceding. Reply David Paul Behrens March 21, 2018 Very free flowing and descriptive. As Joe said, like painting a picture with words, which is what all good poetry strives for. Nicely done. Reply Fr. Richard Libby March 21, 2018 Very nicely done. Congratulations! Reply Wendy Bourke March 21, 2018 It has been a treat to read these wonderful comments. Thank you all so much. You have made my day! Reply Julia March 26, 2018 This is a beautiful poem! I love the picture it paints, of snow melting away, trickling into the dark recesses of the earth, and wildlife slowly emerging from hibernation. Thank you for sharing your writing with the world. Reply Mercy March 26, 2018 Hi! I’m Mercy and i’m 9. My mom read me this poem today and I liked the part about the TWILIGHT. I like the sound of that word and the picture it puts in my mind. Thanks for sharing your work!!! Reply Samuel March 26, 2018 Hello, I’m 11 years old and I liked the way you described the bird noises. There are lots of birds where I live now because Spring is here. Thank you for writing and sharing this poem. Reply Wilude Scabere March 26, 2018 Ms. Bourke’s predominantly monosyllabic sonnet neatly and onomatopoetically captures the transition of winter to spring, as Ms. Boquet succinctly points out. As Mr. Watt and Mr. MacKenzie indicate, the final separated couplet is also an effective generalization. I likewise enjoy Ms. Bourke’s use of hyphenated adjectives, ellipses and dashes. However, not in my wildest dreams would I ever imagine the writing of sonnets part of any New Poetical Art (Ars Poetica Nova), unless one is referring to the overall musical styles that flourished in Italy and France in the late Middle Ages [as the great German musicologist Johannes Wolff has so labeled them]. Part of the sonnet’s charm is its historical claim, reminding us of the fertility of late Middle Ages poetry and our relationship to it here in the 21st Century. In reference to that, there is an almost Chaucerian naiveté in Ms. Bouke’s sonnet, which can be seen in its appeal to even very young readers. 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