Spring Poems by Students and Staff

The Spring of 2020 is many strange things, but it is also ... SPRING. Here we collect poems about nature. Heartening!

Spring

By: Vagni Das

The birds twittering a melodious tune

With trees swaying as if on cue

The breeze lifting the leaves

Flying in the wind because they are free

Yellow flowers as bright as the sun

Spring has sprung

Here is a spring SONNET by 8th grader, Ella Brown.

Sonnets are ... a hard form in which to write. Kudos!

Spring brings changes of the autumnal kind

the breezes sing and the treetops whistle

morning dew on a thorny thistle

summer daydreams bring to mind

childhood days when you would find

grasshoppers launching as if a missile

and a groudhogs shadow that prevents dismissal

a stealthy toad hides in a swampy blind

hunting flies among the flower

whose colors shine more than ever

as morning glories daily unfold

again reborn each morning hour

the springtime song of the zephyr

bids adieu to the cold

An poem from early April by 5th grader Lila McNaughton:

Beautiful blossoms

Branches swaying in the wind

Shades of light pink

Roots embedded in the ground

Wind rushing at the strong bark

Water rushing in between my toes

Lunging forward and pulling back that is how the water flows

Shades of beautiful blue and green

Always nice, never mean

Sparkles of fish

How I fly just above the suffice, I wish.

Ollie Brown, grade 5, submitted this well-observed prose poem:

If a shorebird lances over the spiny reeds and clay-like glossy mud, yet that bird has done something. It has savored the radiant marvel of beauty itself, and reflects back to itself upon the shiny mud. And maybe the clouds are stained with gray or rain droplets shower down heavily, a shorebird is perching out over the reeds and clay. And maybe lightning ribbons through the nimbus and all feathered things are home in a nest, a shorebird still sits silently. Pearly eyes seeing clay-like mud once again and reeds swaying in the water, still fascinated. Maybe the birch tree towers over and topples into the sloshing water and maybe the water is frigid. Maybe the bird is wet and it’s feathers are ruffled. The maybes don’t matter, because the shorebird keeps perching, on a slippery log. Yet even though it’s pouring and lightning strikes pines and oaks every so often, the shorebird still sees beauty in the world. And when that shorebird dies and slips off the log, I will see the beauty in the world for him.

This one is by Abigail Grunewald, gr. 5

Spring Awakening

Pine sap releases a fragrant smell that clings to the air and blends with the fresh, clean smell of a recent rainfall

Broadleaf trees stretch their graceful branches towards the sky, reaching, reaching. . .

The occasional chatter of a chipmunk or a rustle of leaves shatters the silence of the peaceful dawn of a new day

The taste of maple syrup from a tap lingers in my mouth, warming me as a cool morning breeze whistles through the branches of trees above

Oak bark, rough against my hands, sports buds now shooting out of its branches, peeking out, eager to be able to boast fresh green leaves, whispering as the breeze attempts to blow them away with no luck,

“Spring. . . welcome back, spring. . .”