Summer In The South Poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Summer In The South

Rating: ★3.3


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.

Friday, January 3, 2003
Topic(s) of this poem: green,woods
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Pruchnicki 16 March 2011

Everyone has an opinion, I see. We are told how to interpret a poem and how not to interpret one! Let me ask doubting Thomases like young MacKenzie - how does a reader come to an understanding of a poem unless he pays attention to what words mean? For that matter, the relevant question should be HOW DOES A POEM MEAN? Study rime and meter and rhythm in earnest and you might come to comprehend what the poem means, right? Yes, one must infer meaning from the structure of the poem! You cannot ask personal questions of any writer, now can you? How about Shakespeare's plays? Incidentally, whatever happened to my earlier comments, as well as those of Mr. Straw? The author some of you might consult is John Ciardi, who translated Dante's DIVINE COMEDY from its original Italian to English and whose book entitled HOW DOES A POEM MEAN has withstood the ravages of time. A word to the wise, eh?

4 4 Reply
Carlos Echeverria 16 March 2012

A plu-perfect nature poem, which reads like it sprung from Dunbar's pure self, like a natural change of season.

6 0 Reply
Precious Boy 03 August 2006

It is a very good poem, but in the 6th line 'pinety' probably should be 'piny' or 'piney'. Just for the poet's reference.

1 4 Reply
Juan Olivarez 16 March 2011

The roses would only be susceptible to the rain at night when the buds and leaves would not have a chance to dry, thus providing and opening for blight and fungus. But who cares, the real tragedy here is that Dunbar was so young at his passing.

5 0 Reply
Soumya Ranjan Rout 23 September 2017

What a nice poem from a nice poet.lI. I like this type of poet.

5 2 Reply
Curtis Johnson 25 July 2015

The sights and sounds of nature are vivid with color and movement.

6 9 Reply
Nika Mcguin 16 March 2014

The woods run mad with riot! theres something about that line

9 5 Reply
Soumya Ranjan Rout 23 September 2017

I like this type of feeling.

0 0
Carolyn June 16 March 2013

One of my favorite poems as a child. Truly gifted, but died too young

6 2 Reply
Carlos Echeverria 16 March 2012

A plu-perfect nature poem which reads like it sprung naturally from Dunbar's pure self.

8 0 Reply
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Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Ohio / United States
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