If you haven’t had a chance to explore the poems already featured on this website, we would love to introduce you to them one by one.
After long months of a Maine winter, “Call Forth The Spring” evokes the universal response to the longed-for change of season and speaks urgently for sexual love. But what encourages the frank language is that creation itself, and creation’s renewal, trumps everything; even Sunday is included in this necessary joy.
It’s exactly the poem for a sunny day after a hard winter. Personally, its joyousness reminds me of that other seasonally-inspired too-roo on the trumpet, the medieval ditty “Sumer Is Icumen In,” where the anonymous lyricist bids the cuckoo bird sing “lhude” (loudly) because the meadow is blooming and the bullock prancing.