Low hanging mist; laden’s spent papery leaves
To be bejewelled in the Indian summer’s light
A cool tinge to the morning air
The scent of earthiness and decay; reclamation by the soil
Fallen and laid, this ruby, bronzed and golden gown
Through which we wander and kick our way
Strewn; the already fallen fruits lie, a treasure for all to plunder
A time for storing for the lean ahead
A time for nature to prepare to pull up its leafy quilt and put itself to bed
Benign and torpid; it whiles away the winter deep in slumber
Kept warm by the afterglow, of spring turned into summer
Autumn awaits its return of rite again.
A contest entry
- Prewrites. ♥ by GraveyardGoddess.
400 points, ends November 27, 419 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Very pretty dear, and the image is wonderful. Thank you for entering. Good luck darling.
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Your words are like honey, sweet and slow. Beautiful drawn out images that paint every detail. I really think this one has something very sensual about it, and that's not to be confused sexual. When I say honey, I mean as I read it I literally was salivating. Excellent.
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my fav. time of year.... visions in your poetry rests my spirit tks
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Very Well done
Wonderful write with lots of wonder of the seasons, Showing how life brings its self anew at just the right time. If people could just do the same.
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wonderful
Very nicely penned dear poet. The flow is just wonderful and the imagery is just awesome, I really like these lines,
Low hanging mist; laden’s spent papery leaves
To be bejewelled in the Indian summer’s light
these first two lines really draw you into it very nice.
Kept warm by the afterglow, of spring turned into summer
Autumn awaits its return of rite again.
and the last two lines really tie it up wonderfully. Great write keep them coming!!
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