May 17, 2024

Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves; And mid-May’s eldest child The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

—John Keats

May 10, 2024

The wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard wall, But for me the spring is done.

—Sara Teasdale

May 3, 2024

"The bud stands for all things, even for those things that don’t flower, for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing."

—Galway Kinnell

April 26, 2024

While from the purpling east departs The star that led the dawn, Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts, For May is on the lawn.

—William Wordsworth

April 19, 2024

Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.

—Henry David Thoreau

April 12, 2024

There is not time enough on earth For all I’d like to do; But, having lived and having toiled, I’d like the world to find Some little touch of beauty That my soul had left behind.

—Edgar Albert Guest

April 5, 2024

I was born to water On an island in the sea. The surf outside the window Each night put me to sleep. Waves against the shore Rumbled cobbles On the stormy coast.

—Conrad Neumann

March 29, 2024

Today is the day when daffodils bloom, Which children pick to fill the room, Today is the day when grasses green, When leaves burst forth for spring to be seen.

—Robert McCracken

March 22, 2024

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain’d his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run.

—Robert Herrick

March 15, 2024

A moondew stars her hanging hair And moonlight kisses her young brow And, gathering, she sings an air: Fair as the wave is, fair, art thou!

—James Joyce

March 8, 2024

Midnight on a carousel ride Reaching for the gold ring Down inside Never could reach it, just slips away But I try.

—Robert Hunter

March 1, 2024

March is the month of expectation, The things we do not know, The Persons of prognostication Are coming now.

—Emily Dickinson

February 23, 2024

Beauty is everlasting. And winter’s burial is not. Underneath cold winter bone, the flesh of summer sleeps.

—Peggy Freydberg

February 16, 2024

Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells, Pumping in my living room.

—Maya Angelou

February 9, 2024

What is love? ’Tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What’s to come is still unsure; In delay there lies no plenty.

—William Shakespeare

February 2, 2024

Too beautiful to go back to sleep The morning sprite before the sun Black silhouetted trees that edge the world Respeak stillness as night’s undone.

—Peter Ledermann

January 26, 2024

Little January Tapped at my door today. And said, “Put on your winter wraps, And come outdoors to play.” Little January Is always full of fun; Until the set of sun.

—Winifred C. Marshall

January 19, 2024

Bare branches of each tree On this chilly January morn Look so cold so forlorn. Gray skies dip ever so low Left from yesterday’s dusting of snow.

—Nelda Hartmann

January 12, 2024

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

—Robert Frost

January 5, 2024

There are two seasonal diversions that can ease the bite of any winter. One is the January thaw. The other is the seed catalogues.

—Hal Borland