When the Spring comes,
God, you help me grow.
The word you planted in me
shows brightly in all its colors.
When the Summer comes,
you cool my feet
in your river of life.
You give me rest
under a canopy of trees.
When the Fall comes,
you nourish me
with your bounty of blessings.
You make me strong and whole.
When the Winter comes,
your house shields me
from the storm.
And your love
keeps me warm
You have prepared Lord,
for all our needs,
no matter the challenge,
so that we may weather…
© Joel Tipple 11/28/2018
Winter is chill
and you can catch your death
Spring can bounce you in directions
Summer’s so hot, it isn’t funny
But mess with Autumn, and you’re in
for a Fall.
Even though the first day of May isn’t for a few hours yet, it’s May somewhere. Here’s a poem in honor of the month.
Some folks celebrate May Day, there’s Cinco de Mayo, and don’t forget Mother’s day, but I think we should celebrate the whole month in honor of what its name signifies: permission.
Take a stroll on a sunny, windy day?
Stay up late before you hit the hay?
Pluck petulant pansy petals so more will have their way?
Get deep into Spring cleaning to get ready for Summer days?
May’s the month with a built in okay for every good thing.
It’s the correct word for misapplied cans. It’s a great time
for early sunning at the beach, be you any age woman or man.
It’s a month for pushing Winter out the door,
and putting Spring flowers to bed.
You might have your own favorite month, it’s true,
but my fave
is that month after April
and right before June
On behalf of myself and all those who eagerly await your arrival, please consider this official request.
Okay, I know you must be rolling your eyes.
Here’s this guy who lives near the coast in the north of California. He spends most of his time in a marine climate that sees little in the way of extremes. Mostly what he has to worry about are earthquakes. A warm jacket when outdoors and a little extra caution while driving take care of things, pretty much. Now, you could understand the distress of those living in the grip of winter’s wrath, the mountains of snow, the inches of ice, the difficulty of… just doing anything outside. But this guy? With HIS cozy little micro-climate? Not so much.
Alright, Spring. Guilty as charged.
But hey, Spring?
I love you.
little buds peeking out on branches all over
before exploding in colorful blooms
i love the way our world fills with hues
until it seems there could be no more room
to hold so much grandeur and majesty and joy
unseen since the dawning of earth
nature fairly weeps for sights so exquisite
as the ecstatic ground gives birth
Now Spring, I can see you have blushed. If need be, I apologize for making you rush. It’s just I can’t wait for your start. Please accept this bribe of words. They’re all straight from my heart.