First, a little Emily
Dear March—Come in—(1320)
Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest—
Did you leave Nature well—
Oh March,
Come right upstairs with me—
I have so much to tell—
I got your Letter, and the Birds—
The Maples never knew that you were coming—
I declare – how Red their Faces
grew—
But March, forgive me—
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue—
There was no Purple suitable—
You
took it all with you—
Who knocks? That April—
Lock the Door—
I will not be pursued—
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am
occupied—
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come
That blame is just as dear as Praise And Praise as mere as Blame—
COPYRIGHT © Emily Dickinson
This poem is in the public domain.
Dear July–Be kind– by selma
Dear July--Be kind--I'm glad you came to visit now;
'tis better late than never!
I wished for you when winter roared from January to March
--that seemed to last forever.
Well with temperatures like the Arctic I'd hope you'd
visit me, and in your Latin-blooded way talk common sense
to old man Boreas, embittered.
But you were far and the mailman couldn't reach
the tropics. The roads were iced, and prospects unkind in
January, February, and March.
I've got a need to explain: It happened that the strange
winged man with frosted spiked hair lost his beloved conch
shell, and close to perdition was he while we wailed in a
fit of quintessential frustration when the thermostat he
kept to freezing.
By and by, in Boreas's place came the charming Miss Brigid,
whom every poet pines over
but the girl was too green and unable to drive the frigid man
back to his November.
Until the stars aligned and morphed him into a horse to quickly
cross the wheat fields and young clover.
Oh, how we prayed to the moon, prayed to the stars to dispatch
a note to you, over and over but now that you're here,
I beg you sweetly be gone or loosen your grip on the thermostat
so August and September don't get views bizarre.
Lower it please we already know how fierce you are--you're not
Brigid! These trifles might seem trivial to you but you are
July and I beg you be kind.
© selma
It’s too hot, my friends and so I’m putting in a good word for us.
To get the whole story, you might want to read this post:
Thanks for the visit.
Stay cool.
- Homage to Dante: What Ails Thee, Trifler? - December 13, 2024
- Do The Southerlies Come For The Wicked Too? - December 12, 2024
- Dectina Refrain: Tinged Living Lessons - December 11, 2024
thanks for the poetic plea, for nature to have mercy on I and thee
I did it for us.
… 😜 Not everything that counts can be counted and not everything that can be counted counts. 🤪
Thanks my friend. 🤗
Wonderful, Selma
Thanks for saying. 😘 it is too hot!
Welcome. Stay cool
🎐
Great poem, and April has given March a break.
April was nice. But now July!? Living it up like the hot lady she is. Stay cool dear one.
You too, and July is colder.
I love both the poems Selma.
Thanks always. Sadje.
You’re most welcome
Hi Selma, it seems strange to think you are having unbearably hot weather when it’s so cold here. July is always cold with horrible biting winds.
If only we could share to each other to balance things out. Oh well. Stay warm. I’ll stay cool.
🌞🌻
You’ve captured the weather perfectly Selma. And a good salute to Emily.
I salute Emily too 🫡 thanks K.
But you were far and the mailman couldn’t reach
the tropics. Very interesting words written in poem. Nature related words. I like poem.
🙃 thanks
Welcome Selma 😄
It’s too hot, my friends and so I’m putting in a good word for us.
To get the whole story,
Stay cool!
Stay cool.
Okay,my friend 😌