Spring or Autumn’s in the air, and our poetmasters clearly could not resist penning an ode or haiku or whoknowswhatthehecktheywerewriting to the seasons. Despite the thrills or chills or desirestorunforthehills they gave, only one walked away as champion.
And that winner is:
Untitled piece
by Writerinretrospect
Bloody buzzing bees
Faceplant into the window
Hahahahaha!!
Congratulations, Writerinretrospect! You are the most terrible poet of the week!
I had great fun reading all these poems! WIR’s struck me as winner above all because of its succinct terribleness; its abbreviated awfulness. This poem addressed the subject, appeared to verse seriously by its form, then proved quite silly after all.
But, that hardly discounts the rest. I laughed aloud at their cleverness, and know you also will:
I hope California’s Dreaming
by Richmond Road
The mercury is falling
I hope it’s just a cold
Is it destiny that’s calling?
Or part of getting old?
Is it just a shiver?
Or might it be a curse?
That Autumn will deliver
Or will Winter be much worse?
A month of isolation
My social distance getting broad
I’m here for the duration
Already getting bored
There’s bad news in the paper
The TV’s on the blink
I fear the isolator
Might turn this man to drink
My Mama and my Papa
They left here just in time
I cough. I sneeze. I splutter
I’ve been cut down in my prime
So all the sky is grey
And all the leaves are brown
There’s nothing left to say
‘Cause there’s no one left in town
***
And I want extra points deducted for the blatant theft of ‘California Dreaming’ lyrics.
—–
Ode to Spring (in Alabama)
by The Abject Muse
Springtime in the Dirty South
don’t last fer long
Well hush my mouth!
Magnolia trees are the best part
smell so fresh an’ sweet
ain’t like Bubba-Jean’s dirty feet.
Tiny birds chirp & slurp
the juicy worms
they find in dirt
In a couple weeks
spring is over
and you will sweat
like an ogre.
Cuz now it’s summer.
—–
Haiku
by Joem18b
green things start to grow
when they come out from the snow
so then i must mow
—–
Autumntime
by Deb Whittam
Autumn is comin
But I’ll still be runnin
2 metres from you
Hey lets go to the zoo
See the bats
Drown the rats
Walk the dogs
Bring in the hogs
Leaves are fallin
Winter will come a callin
But we’ll all be in lockdown
So I’ll be up at four
Runnin’ so you can’t see me
No more.
—–
New Life
by Bryntin
waiting
for it to arrive
and full of hope
for it all to be better soon
suddenly
things are new and fresh
a mysterious force has been
and reinvigorated your world
unbidden
no one asks for this
it happened overnight
a sprouting in functionalities
refreshed
with the urge to create
the brilliant canvas slowly awakens
your desire for inputs suddenly keener
excited
the power surges within
the crescendo of creative energy builds
and then it stops
message
information blinks
it reads
Windows 10 Update unsuccessful
Try Again? Y/N
—–
Untitled piece
by Joanne
Autumn –
the trees slowly
going bald
—–
Ode to Spring
by Charlie
After fornicating earlier for all they’re worth
in the Spring the animals give birth
Owls spawn owlets
Cows spawn cowlets
(or “calves”
if it is comprised of both halves)
Bees pollinate the colorful blooms
Hibernating bears check out of their rooms
Reproduction is that upon which all of nature is built
Didn’t have youngsters? Enjoy your guilt!
The season of Spring
is just about my favorite thing
Although you can bet your bautumn
I prefer Autumn
—–
Mud Season
by The Bag Lady
The dirt road freezes then it thaws
Ruts form in melting causing “awes”
From drivers going way too fast
Veering all ways from first to last
Tires getting stuck in grooves
Cars making unwanted moves
The trip was never meant to be
A closeup visit with a tree.
—–
Re-leafing myself in public
(with apologies to His Bobness)
by Doug Jacquier
As the calendula ticks (not to be confused with cattle ticks)
over to the March of the sugar plum fairies
I vow to turn over a new leaf.
But I am de-feated
By the myriad discarded oak appendages
carpet-snaking to my door.
There must be some way out of here
I thought in disbelief.
There’s too much confusion.
I can’t get on relief.
So I sprang forward through
a hole in the daylight-saving curtain
and found, to my re-leaf,
rabbits eating my lettuce seedlings.
—–
Untitled piece
by Obbverse
Sunny Outlook.
Leaves is green,
Summers peachy keen.
Leaves turn yellow,
Mortifies this fellow.
Leaves is red,
Soon be dead.
Winter draws close,
Leaves me morose.
Grey day after day
Springs so far away.
When that wintery sun’s shining
I cain’t see no silvery lining.
—–
Untitled piece
by Trent P. McDonald
A flower flowered
Outside of my door
I knew it must be spring!
I sprang outside
Birds and buds on trees!
It reminded me I need a six-pack
Of Bud
But never mind
The birds on trees!
And Buds!
Yuck….
I go inside
Wash the bird excrement off
I shut the curtains
I open a Bud
When will winter be here again!?!
—–
Spring? Yeah, right
by Geoff LePard
(follow the link for lovely pictures of Geoff’s garden as well)
Spring has finally sprung
But like a gorilla on an old mattress
It’s barely left the ground
Which is frankly disappointing.
*
This year’s daffodils
Have wandered off with a poet,
Looking jaundiced
And in need of a good drink.
*
The lambs have skipped
School in favour of
The slaughterhouse
Cos at least it’s warm.
*
There’s blossom on the trees
But it’s more like
Arboreal dandruff
Than a sign of new birth.
*
Whoever coined the expression
Global warming
Hasn’t had his nadger’s iced
By a March north wind.
*
It bites like a demented rabbit
Denied its conjugal rights
Cos Mrs Flossy has chucked him out
Of the family burrow. Again.
*
Yeah Spring. It sucks. I’m
Practising self hibernation.
—–
Spring its A Lie, Or the Birth of Buds
by Ellen Best
Watch them unfurl in the fragileility of spring,
Opening our eyes allowing us to dream.
Sun scoots low to expose streaked windows
and stained tablecloths that soap failled to clean.
Dust motes dance without rythm or beat,
As the light stings our eyes and warms our feet.
lettuce and sweatpeas sprout in soil filled pots
With dafdodills normality comes in restless spots.
But do not be fooled enough to blink or sigh
For Jack with pointy fingers and lazer eyes
Sends snapping frosts throughout night skies.
Burns lime green leaves as black as Magpies eyes
Stomps on plants with leadend boots.
Its plan is clear to freeze the shoots.
Now our gardens spoilled
spring hadn’t sprung
So we begin again
with steaming
Pony
Dung.
—–
Love/Hate Spring
by Ruth Scribbles
I love the green buds
the flowers too
but they really make me
achoo achoo
My head’s full of water
my eyes itch a LOT
I wish flowers didn’t stink
and cause lots of snot
—–
Spring
by Gary
It’s Springtime in Yorkshire
The Sun is still on vacation
Still waiting for it to be a scorcher
Oh the pigging frustration
–
The path is covered in ice
And I’ve just landed on my bum
Now I’m wearing last nights rice
And I feel a right dumb dumb
–
The washing on the line is frozen rock solid
The gale force wind screams over the barren field
The weeds and broken branches makes it look so squalid
The poor garden birds hide in the bushes seeking any decent shield
–
So Springtime is here which means dust down the garden chair
Now I’m off inside to find my extra thick thermal underwear
—–
Raking Leaves
by Susan Zutautas
Early spring and the ground is smushy
Have to get outside and rake like a hussy
Raking the leaves makes me question
Why I didn’t do this last fall in a session
Now my back is breaking
from all the dam raking
Still have more to do
Picking up all the doggie poo
Leaves have to go into big paper bags
Or they won’t pick them up … what a drag
—–
Thank you all. Tune in tomorrow for next week’s prompt.
Inrestrospectawriter: Here’s a badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:
©2020 The poets, and their respective poems.
