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Forsythia Fading
—after Robert Frost and A.E. Housman
Green leaves push yellow blooms away.
Bold colors leave, their lives an hour
Compared with green things’ lengthened day.
It’s true that nothing gold can stay.
Late April, maybe early May,
Pink blossoms drop, no more to flower,
Upon the lawn. They soon decay,
Food for the grass, which won’t display
Such vivid petals very long.
Abruptly, any sudden breeze
May blow them from their branches, flung
Away, to perish still so young.
Where but a few last blooms have clung—
Before our eyes can fully seize
The season’s palette—summer’s sprung
Where greenery intrudes among
The lacy white of Eastertide:
The cherry—queen of all the trees—
Has lost her garland; springtime’s bride
Fades fleetingly, until she’s dyed
Dark green. Bright hues no more provide
Their transitory ecstasies
Where long-lived foliage has denied
Them space to stay. Unsatisfied,
They yield, quickly diminishing,
Their brilliance changed for monochrome
Green leaves. Too quickly finishing
Their vibrant revels, vanishing
Deep into May showers’ softened loam,
Loose petals sink, buried, their brief
Lives cut short. Their yearly doom
Is to be hidden in earth’s gloom
Beneath the trees whose leaves invade.
Robbed once again by youth’s cruel thief,
Their beauty now no more displayed
As brighter colors quickly fade,
They fertilize old soil, unseen,
Where spring’s brief gold subsides to grief
Below the grass forever green.
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Cynthia Erlandson is a poet and fitness professional living in Michigan. Her third collection of poems, Foundations of the Cross and Other Bible Stories, was released in July, 2024 by Wipf and Stock Publishers. Her other collections are These Holy Mysteries and Notes on Time. Her poems have also appeared in First Things, Modern Age, The North American Anglican, The Orchards Poetry Review, The Book of Common Praise hymnal, The Catholic Poetry Room, and elsewhere.
Cynthia, this is a beautiful poem with vivid imagery and soulful meaning reminding us that life is fleeting. The colors of flower petals fading off into the green lawns of summer does remind us “that nothing gold can stay.” Change in life is inevitable as once bright and beckoning bodies eventually decay. The rhyme and flow is very well done and enhances the aura of the poem.
Thank you for your thoughtful reply, Roy.
The cherry tree references took me back to our back garden, the beauty of the blossom on the tree and the annoyance of the fallen blossom.
I think I’ll make ‘nothing gold can stay’ my motto!
Thanks for the read.
Thank you, Paul. I’m glad this brought back pleasant memories for you.
I’m not sure which poems by E.E. Cummings and A.E. Housman this poem alludes to, but maybe someone will do more sleuthing than I have done and point them out.
I counted six mentions of “green” in your poem. The color green is widely present in nature, and if it wasn’t my favorite color, I might get tired of it. All the other colors, however, might be more valued because of their rarity and ephemerality. While grass might not stay green forever in winters in zones close to the poles, it definitely has a way of surviving. I once wrote a sonnet about grass called “Indomitable.”
You used an unusual and difficult rhyme scheme, but you’ve done it justice.
Thank you for your comments, Alan. I enjoyed weaving together this rhyme scheme and the allusions to two poems by these famous poets. “Nothing Gold Can Stay” is by e.e. cummings, and begins, “Nature’s first green is gold, / Her hardest hue to hold.” ” Loveliest of Trees” by Housman portrays the cherry trees “wearing white for Eastertide.” I felt my poem was too derivative of their ideas not to give them credit. My favorite color is yellow, so I’m always sad to see the forsythia turn green. Perhaps you’ll let us see your sonnet about grass some time.
Cynthia, “Nothing Gold Can Stay” is one of my favorite poems, but I have to point out that it was written by Robert Frost. Did cummings perhaps pen something similar?
Robert Frost (1874 –1963)
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Forsythia is the perfect flower to start with, Cynthia, in this “greening” poem. As I recall New England springs, it might not have been the very first flower to appear (squills? crocus?), but certainly the brightest and most obvious, on branches without a hint of green at the beginning.
Your poem does a thorough investigation of the early spring to early summer transition season. You may say it’s “after” Cummings and Housman, but it is substantial as their lyrics are not. Almost a narrative with a little lament for colorful petals at the end, though how can we lament the opening of the long, warm expanse of green? Good treatment of the theme!
Thank you so much, Margaret! I’m very happy that you think I treated the theme well. In fact I feel honored to be compared with cummings and Housman. I really do find cummings’ lines “So Eden sank to grief, / So dawn goes down to day. / Nothing gold can stay.” to be especially moving.
Lovely poem with an interesting rhyme scheme. Thanks, Cynthia.
Thank you, Daniel.
Cynthia, I find this poem to be hauntingly beautiful — the language, the imagery, the pacing, the depth… Everything comes together movingly and perfectly. Well done!
Thank you so much, Brian! Blossoms, and their brief lives, move me deeply. (Especially yellow ones. 🙂 ) I’m grateful that you even find it haunting.
You convey grief and loss with such beautiful imagery. This is a nice meditation on decay.
Thank you so much, Adam. I admire your work very much, so your comment means a lot to me.
What do I know about Forsythia? Only this: the flowering stems are easily forced, some yellows are better than others, and almost nobody knows how to prune the damn things. Yet also: it is the official flower of Brooklyn, NY, and when it blooms it’s time to put your crab grass preventer on your lawn.