The Human Seasons by John Keats

https://emeraldbookclub.org/2026/01/19/the-human-seasons/

Welcome to Poetic Mondays at the Book Club.

Todays poem is "in the Green by Jessie Rittenhouse"

Welcome to December here at the Poetic Flows Podcast. Stay tuned for poems on winter, rain, celebration, snow and all that December had to bring

The Seasonsby E. F. Hayward

I love to watch the seasons change;
As Summer takes the throne from Spring,
So wonderful sublime and strange,
Each one its own sweet songs does sing.

It seems each one, in turn, is best;
Is gifted with some special grace;
Yet Summer fades, as have the rest,
And Autumn boldly takes its place.

This of the Four I hold most dear,
Would be content to have it stay;
But Winter comes to close the year,
And Autumn scenes must pass away.

Just so our lives; our childhood days
Are filled with joy, that's ne'er forgot;
And he is wise who simply says,
"I love them all," and murmurs not.

What A Rose Can Say Poem by Margie Driver
A rose can say I love you and want you to be mine,
A rose can say I thank you for being so very kind,
A rose can say congratulations, whatever the occasion may be,
A rose can say I miss you and wish you were here with me,
A rose can say I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way,
A rose can say get well soon, May God bless you today,
A rose can say I wish you happiness, and the best for you each day.
A rose can say farewel when someone goes away,
A rose can say hello, I’m thinking of you today,
There’s just so many wonderful things that a rose can say,
A rose can say goodbye when a love one is laid to rest,
No matter what there is to say, a rose can say it best.

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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You Poem by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it’s you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

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Cross Poem by Langston Hughes

My old man’s a white old man
And my old mother’s black.
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.
If ever I cursed my black old mother
And wished she were in hell,
I’m sorry for that evil wish
And now I wish her well
My old man died in a fine big house.
My ma died in a shack.
I wonder where I’m going to die,
Being neither white nor black?

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New Year

By Bei Dao

a child carrying flowers walks toward the new year
a conductor tattooing darkness
listens to the shortest pause
hurry a lion into the cage of music
hurry stone to masquerade as a recluse
moving in parallel nights
who's the visitor? when the days all
tip from nests and fly down roads
the book of failure grows boundless and deep
each and every moment's a shortcut
I follow it through the meaning of the East
returning home, closing death's door

Read the Post Here