I shall be Autumn
this Halloween,
with leaf draped skirt,
and folds of
boysenberry velvet wine
flowing to the ground.
Brown stained face,
eyes rimmed in gold,
nails dripping sunset,
a crown of twigs
to cover my head.
You may gather from me
the spring of my youth,
my summer of maturity,
and hold onto with me,
the solace of these days
of remembering
before the frost.
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This old poem of mine, dedicated to Autumn, was first published in 2008 by poetry.about.com. For some reason it resonated with many, so developed a life of its own, is often copied, and travels the Internet each autumn on many blogs and websites, from homespun, to witchcraft, to acid rock, to land sales. :-) I am fascinated by its journey.
Excellent poetic portrait of the season.
Understandably appreciated 'from homespun, to witchcraft, to acid rock, to land sales.'
Beautiful poem and so appropriate for the darker shorter days that lie ahead.
*
somehow so comforting on this cold, rainy, not quite Autumn day. star
Thank you so much J. Mykell, Susan, and MaryAnne for your comments and favs.
This is gorgeous. A lament, but a lovely one. I especially like the strong second stanza.*
JP,
Thank you. It's much appreciated.
lovely, Judith, keep remembering those warm springs.
Thank you, Estelle. So good to hear from you.