The Crocuses Poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

 

Image result for poem crocuses

 

They heard the South wind sighing
A murmur of the rain;
And they knew that Earth was longing
To see them all again.

While the snow-drops still were sleeping
Beneath the silent sod;
They felt their new life pulsing
Within the dark, cold clod.

Not a daffodil nor daisy
Had dared to raise its head;
Not a fairhaired dandelion
Peeped timid from its bed;

Though a tremor of the winter
Did shivering through them run;
Yet they lifted up their foreheads
To greet the vernal sun.

And the sunbeams gave them welcome.
As did the morning air
And scattered o’er their simple robes
Rich tints of beauty rare.

Soon a host of lovely flowers
From vales and woodland burst;
But in all that fair procession
The crocuses were first.

First to weave for Earth a chaplet
To crown her dear old head;
And to beautify the pathway
Where winter still did tread.

And their loved and white haired mother
Smiled sweetly ‘neath the touch,
When she knew her faithful children
Were loving her so much.

Poetry In Motion

http://www.runnersworld.com/commentary/the-poetry-of-running

I came across this article whilst searching for poems about running. I really enjoyed it so decided to share it here.

 I also found this poem which expresses how I felt when running in the rain recently

Silent Running

The coolness of the morning air, rushing over me,
Silent running, sunrise, peace, tranquility,
Heart is pumping faster, breathing getting deeper,
Stride’s becoming shorter, as the hill grows steeper.

Rain is gently falling, cool upon my face,
Refreshing me all over, quickening my pace,
This therapeutic feeling, flowing through my veins,
It overtakes my tiredness, as I start to feel the strain

Run is almost over, slowly homeward bound,
Silent running through the streets, making not a sound,
Endorphins start to surface, I feel like I can fly,
An energy comes bursting out, must be the runners high :0)

Copyright © Claire Bowl | Year Posted 2014