Summer

[mirmusing.livejournal.com]

Summer in the South - Paul Laurence Dunbar (1903)

The oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.

Comments

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green

:)

Also, the last two lines are awesome.
But is 'pinety' a typo?

Sorry for such a pointless comment. :D

Pinety

[mirmusing.livejournal.com]

"The vernacular word ‘pinety’ cleverly plays upon pint sized in my mind and thus fits ‘The garden thrives, but the tender shoots Are yellow-green and tiny' beautifully. Dunbar exhibits exquisite descriptive choice, in spring a garden does thrive with tender shoots, when an exceptional gardener has a magic touch. Some plants require more sheltered sections of a garden and the choice of ‘but’ reminds of seasonal damage the young shoots suffer in what we termed a bad spring when weather rained havoc. This is really an excellent poem and the poet has carefully chosen exactly the words he wanted to describe his observations of a southern summer. I have often contemplated how much some of the city bound miss, when reading well written nature poems, due to never having been blessed with immersion into the diversity of nature. This poem is a joy of treasured of memories, with deep insight, expressed with accurate simplicity."

Smiles

M.