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Poetic Mood

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  • Poetic Mood

    Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a song. Let’s see, how did it
    go? “Spring has sprung, the grass has ‘riz, I wonder where the birdie is?”
    Oh no! That wasn’t a song, That was a poem by, hmmmmmm I forget.
    Oh yes! It was Robert Frost:

    Spring Has Sprung by Robert Frost

    Spring has sprung, the grass has ris’,
    I wonder where the birdie is?
    There he is up in the sky,
    He dropped some whitewash in my eye!
    I‘m alright, I won't cry,ı
    I'm just glad that cows can't fly!

    And so, Robert Frost, you put me in a poetic mood.

    Spring, I’m Wise to You

    The flower beds beckon to me,
    Yes surely, through my window I see
    Jonquils waving their saucy bud
    Coming through last nights mud.

    They ask, “Where is she who tends,
    The earth around and lends
    A trusty hoe to rake away
    All these weeds who stray?”

    “Our beds must be made
    Even though clouds parade
    Blocking the rays of sun
    Must we play alone? No fun!”

    “Oh bother,” I nod my head,
    “It’s spring and I’m not dead.
    I’ll breathe your sweet earth,
    Around you like a horse’s girth.”


    Poem by Donna

  • #2
    Re: Poetic Mood

    Donna, I like your poem, as usual with all your writings.

    However I would be most surprised if 'the' Robert Frost was the writer of the poem. I can find no confirmation, and it is not listed in any of his 'collections' on various web sites. I still like the poem who ever was the author.... lol

    Ranald

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    • #3
      Re: Poetic Mood

      According to one website, Answers.com:


      Who wrote 'Spring has sprung grass has ris I wonder where the birdies is'?


      While frequently attributed to Ogden Nash or ee cummings the author of this amusing nonsense - known as "Spring In The Bronx" - is Anonymous.

      http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Who_wrote_..._birdies_is%27

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      • #4
        Re: Poetic Mood

        Just to let you all know something about me: I am of a poetic nature as well.....Here's a cute poem by John Ciardi....

        FAST AND SLOW

        The old crow is getting slow.
        The young crow is not.
        Of what the young crow does not know
        The old crow knows a lot.

        At knowing things the old crow
        Is still the young crow's master.
        What does the slow old crow not know?
        ---How to go faster.


        The young crow flies above, below,
        And rings around the slow old crow.
        What does the fast young crow not know?
        ---Where to go.

        ~~~~Joan~~~~

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