This is one of my favorite spring poems. I’m grateful for Housman’s reminder to go out and soak up the beauties of nature. In his case, it was cherries. The woods at our ranch are thick with white dogwoods right now. I walk through them every chance I can.
Loveliest of Trees
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
What do you love about springtime?
