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Altweibersommer

I don't know how
the language of the flowers
bloomed in me -
I only know it did once grow
on my periphery
of skirts, so many flounces
to announce the coming fall
where spiders now weave winter nets
to catch my lonesome call.
My hemline once was soaked in dew -
my locks, a brilliant hue,
have faded by the fairy frost -
this brittle crown, my due.

A contest entry

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Comments


  • Kathleen a Nazarene
    October 16, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    LOL....

    I'm ! You entered your own Contest? This is a brilliant write [we're having an Indian Summer here in NJ, USA!] and you didn't give yourself a Gold? Love your word choice & the vivid metaphor that paint a somewhat sad & poignant poem! The fitting ending ties up the theme so fabulously:

    My hemline once was soaked in dew -
    my locks, a brilliant hue,
    have faded by the fairy frost -
    this brittle crown, my due.

    Bravo!


  • Cynewulf
    October 8, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Groovy.


  • arafura gold member
    October 8, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Excellent. Very well written.


  • Meroza
    October 8, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    This poem is really good, and the background match so well with it too! This really is a well written poem!


    Best of luck in the contest!