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22 March 2022

Posted by Tabby Hayward


16 attending

This week we were full of the joys of Spring! Starting out with a free-write to Vivaldi's Spring (from the Four Seasons)....

From Aurora:

Spring. The season of bloom, birth, and the beginning of the
cycle of life. Or, at least, that was how it was advertised on the leaflet.
What the leaflet hadn’t said was that, while it was the season of birth, that
catch-all did not include rebirth. Not in the slightest, actually. Derek wished
that someone had told him this earlier. After all, he wasn’t particularly used
to getting such a harsh reception, especially not in the Royal Albert Hall,
where he had worked for about 10 years before his rather inconvenient death. He
was more than a little peeved that people were horrified at his appearance
backstage, and even more so onstage, as he said so to the
frightened-out-of-his-skin stage manager, though after a little thought he
supposed it made sense: when he had been alive (apparently some 50 years ago)
Spring had decidedly not heralded the return of the dead. These things slip
from a dead person’s mind, you see.

We then discussed our favourite things about Spring, and listed colours, weathers, animals, objects, tastes, smells, sounds, textures and emotions we associate with Spring.

Inspired by this, we used Billy Collins poem about Spring, 'Today' as a template, to write our own poem celebrating some of the ordinary and extraordinary joys of Spring.

Here are some examples:

From Leo:

If ever there could be a day,
a day where I would go outside
and sit by a tree,
a great oak tree casting its gentle shade upon my head
as a warm breeze floated under my nose,
while I listen to audiobooks or Elgar’s serenades,
This would be that day (except the trees haven’t yet
blossomed and are still leafless, so no, it’s not quite today).

 From Zoe:

If there was ever a spring day so perfect,
So full of brown bunnies,
Bouncing through the fields,
A day that makes you want to dance like crazy,
Through the lush green grass,
Today was that day.

 From Safir:

if there were a spring day so perfect, a warm wave covering
you, so colourful and filled with green patches
a day when you are allowed to go to places with nothing
raining down on you.
a sight of a mashed up painting pallet of petals, with a
silky blue sky
With baby birds tweeting in their new homes, with lambs
bleating in their farm houses
Today was that day.

 From Gene:

If there was ever a day so perfect that I could shout with
joy and glee,
If there were any day so perfect that I would feel so happy and
The trees and flowers could bloom at once and I’d spend this time with
It’d be easter as well so I’d like to eat all of the Easter eggs!
Spring break as well, and I’d like to do a few activities,
I’d want to fly to
America Greece Spain and spend 4 hours at Italy.
Then I’d fly home snuggle up
in bed and to myself I would say,
“What a wonderful life. I wish this could
happen everyday!🙂

 From Neelesh:

i have never seen the sunshine glowing bright
so it has
awakened my sight and indeed
I didn't expect this to happen, yet it has.
better it is Easter, the day I go to the park
with my family and eat chocolate
eggs. All of this
triggered my memory since my brother passed away
and this
still reminded me today.

Ode to the Morning Larks - by Aurora

If there ever were a spring day so perfect
that it made you want to sing with the morning larks,
spread your flightless wings from the storied blinds
and pretend the jolly wind was there just for your
precious feathers, would you? Would you take that
opportunity to be free in the brilliant light, gilded
by the glamourous dawn’s bright-eyed forge, soar
above the shimmering silver-lined clouds, leap
from wisp to wisp like a skybound dolphin?
If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
where the breathing trees gently whisper their
kind secrets, soft secrets, not your deep secrets,
but reveal the newly-trodden tracks of the fawn
and her wary mother by the hidden trickling
of a bubbling brook, if ever there was a day where
the mayflies buzzed and launched, like an air force,
to the sapphire skies again, last year again, where
the grasses are long and fuzzy and bite your legs,
eager to play in the brazen, young heat. Green,
ready to see their first Summer, yet must first
endure the giggling shine of the Spring. Oh, would you?
Would you point at the avaricious squirrels in the
topmost canopies of their blooming homes, would you
laugh with those friends who couldn’t bear the cold
that only now again you can smile at, would you
follow the tracks of a shaking dog, panting, bounding
through the limelight fields to encounter the sun?
Would you? Well, today is just that kind of day.


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