I was looking for some Spring poems to celebrate the arrival of that happy season in a few days. I found many, as you might expect, but they were all about the coming of Spring in the Northern hemishere, in April.

'When that Aprille with his shoures soote,

The droghte of March hath pereced to the roote,'

wrote Chaucer in the 1300's.

'When proud-pied April dressed in all his trim,' opined The Bard some centuries later.

'Calmly we walk through this April's day,' was the opening line of a Delmore Schwartz poem.

There are many more I could cite. Problem is, April is the autumn in Australia, my favourite season. I did, however, find one by Australian writer C.J Dennis,

' Spring surely must be near. High over head

The kind blue heavens bend to timbers tall,'

No mention of the month, but the location is definitely south of the equator. He goes on to talk about gold and silver wattles and the bushman's axe, so Australia is a safe bet. 

I have written quite a few poems about autumn, but precious few about Spring. If I had to say why, I think I would say that the 'season of mellow fruitfulness' suits my temperament better and that Spring is, after all, a little haughty. But I will write one soon, when September comes.