Now is the Month of Maying

Now Is the Month Of Maying
by Thomas Morley.
Artist bijde_hansje

Now is the month of maying,
When merry lads are playing, fa la,
Each with his bonny lass
Upon the greeny grass. Fa la.

The Spring, clad all in gladness,
Doth laugh at Winter’s sadness, fa la,
And to the bagpipe’s sound
The nymphs tread out their ground. Fa la.

Fie then! why sit we musing,
Youth’s sweet delight refusing? Fala.
Say, dainty nymphs, and speak
Shall we play at barley-break? Fa la.


The Common Robin

The Common Robin.
Poetry by Laurel Trautwein
Artist Debbie Clark

The robin has returned
with her song
and I do not ask her
of her winter whereabouts
nor tell her how much I’ve missed
the open windows
and the outdoor melodies
that float inside
landing within me
as lightly and longed for as feathers

such whistles and trills
become the music
that brings the rains and
summons the hosta shoots
now shouldering through soil
I cannot budge with a shovel

come July
I will not forget
this novelty
I will not take for granted
this common bird
who is telling me every day
you do not have to be extraordinary
to sing

but to sometimes
forget the world
and remember the earth

to create
something out of nothing
with your singular voice
and so
to dance with the gods
just because…

we are alive
and that is exceptional reason enough