April 15, 2016

Come and let us seek together Springtime lore of daffodils, Giving to the golden weather Greeting on the sun-warm hills.

—Lucy Maud Montgomery

April 8, 2016

A light is laughing thro’ the scattered rain, A color quickens in the meadow; Drops are still, upon the window-pane — They cast a silver shadow.

—Max Eastman

April 1, 2016

What did she tell me of that house of hers? White gatepost; terrace; fanlight of the door; A widow’s walk above the bouldered shore; Salt winds that ruffle the surrounding firs.

—Richard Wilbur

March 25, 2016

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And ’tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. —William Wordsworth

March 18, 2016

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 11, 2016

Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

—W.B. Yeats

March 4, 2016

They still wear last summer’s leaves The lightest brown almost translucent How their stubbornness has decorated The winter woods.

—Grace Paley

February 26, 2016

Thirty seconds of waves colliding. Kelp with its open attitudes, Seals riding the swells, curved in a row Just under the water.

—Dana Levin

February 19, 2016

House without air, I leave you and lock your door. Wild swans, come over the town, come over The town again, trailing your legs and crying! 

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

February 12, 2016

The snow is dear to me; and the moon rising; and the silver sea. With my robes I cover the speckled hen’s eggs and the brindled sea shell 

—Virginia Woolf

February 5, 2016

Sometimes the mist overhangs my path, And blackening clouds about me cling; But, oh, I have a magic way To turn the gloom to cheerful day – I softly sing.

—James Weldon Johnson

January 29, 2016

For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. 

—Wallace Stevens

January 22, 2016

Fairy snow, fairy snow, Blowing, blowing everywhere, Would that I Too, could fly Lightly, lightly through the air.

—Sara Teasdale

January 15, 2016

Hand in hand, we Will go forward toward nothing While our clothes darken And our faces stream With the sweet waters Of heaven.

—Philip Levine

January 8, 2016

Children’s fingerprints On a frozen window Of a small schoolhouse An empire, I read somewhere, Maintains itself through The cruelty of its prisons.

—Charles Simic

January 1, 2016

So much of any year is flammable, Lists of vegetables, partial poems Orange swirling flame of days, So little is a stone.

—Naomi Shihab Nye

December 25, 2015

Though some churls at our mirth repine, Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry.

—George Wither

December 18, 2015

Plovers that stoop to sanctify the land And scoop small, roundy mangers in the sand, Swaddle a saviour each in a speckled shell.

—Anne Stevenson

December 11, 2015

But it is winter with your love; I scatter crumbs upon the sill, And close the window, — and the birds May take or leave them, as they will.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

December 4, 2015

I heard a bird sing In the dark of December A magical thing And sweet to remember. We are nearer to Spring Than we were in September.

—Oliver Herford