Showing posts with label seasons of life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seasons of life. Show all posts

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Autumn ..


Sharing with dVersepoets.com dVerse Poets Pub   Saturday's challenge to write about the current season:

Autumn of Life

Jigsaw puzzle, some chairs, table, lamp by the window -
Outside, nature's changes..how many shades of pink, orange in God's palette?
Saffron skies, rows of rippled clouds shaped like puffed white rice
  Ever changing canvas, deepening shades of azure blue meeting mango orange layers at the horizon, plum gold rays shoot from the sun.
Leaves fall...mini masterpieces, tiny sunsets painted on them  
float as tiny canoes in the stream..
September, when covenants of love are sealed, landscapes of the heart
  defined by woody meadows, rushing water, turning trees and 
unknown possibilities..

Recall years of walking into each new month with hope -
Fall, when the moon with the friendly face was as big as the entire sky 
A bright yellow sun illuminated cooler evenings, lanterns for paths that lead between 
home and everyplace else...
Paper thin leaves show tired veins, no more blankets of grass with tiny white daisies 
Forgotten years..forgotten laughs and tears.  
Sharpe edges of the heart smoothed over time, arms wrapped in another's..
long walks across the footbridge pushed my heart over the edge.  
Each day begins an extended portal of time, indefinitely suspended as day 
breaks and later retires.

Inside, roaring firelight, blankets, pillows piled high in a corner -
 Winds knock, windows welcome the storm, murmurs of choir voices singing Mozart,
Rain bombards the shutters, horizontal neon comets streak, leave a trail of phosphorescence. 
 Chimney smoke circles, ascends, aroma of logs burning.
Recall fair share of past paths walked, long shadows lead into night..
 white hot embers still burn..
Roasted chestnuts, contented smiles, glasses of Pinot Noir
 Good books, intimate conversations, boots, mittens and berry picking 
Kids, holidays, wool sweaters, socks  
for kite flying weather.

To be a child again, jumping into a high pile of raked leaves -
 sloshing in wide deep puddles, school.
Rosy cheeks, frosty air, playing until dark, not a care in the world..
Nostalgia sweeps over at the call of the loons.
Time envelopes us...we want carte blanche, to turn back the clock
 spin cartwheels again, go to the sock hop
But continuous change is all we know...
therefore spring is not far removed
 Unfold your heart, become one with the seasons, store more memories..
Reside in nature's bosom

..