by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator
Phil Groundhog of the Puxatony Groundhogs decreed on February 2nd that winter would last six more weeks. If Phil is to be believed, the bad weather should have come to an end this past weekend. Yet the curse of Phil doth linger.
But spring is coming, I believe that, and it will be followed by a perfect summer - a summer like the one in the poem below. And it will be wonderful!
Summer in the South
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
Poetry Appreciator
Phil Groundhog of the Puxatony Groundhogs decreed on February 2nd that winter would last six more weeks. If Phil is to be believed, the bad weather should have come to an end this past weekend. Yet the curse of Phil doth linger.
But spring is coming, I believe that, and it will be followed by a perfect summer - a summer like the one in the poem below. And it will be wonderful!
Summer in the South
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
No comments:
Post a Comment