Thursday, September 24, 2009

Autumn...Come

It's officially fall here in California just like everywhere else, and yes,  it was 105 degrees yesterday.  My pumpkin collection and scarecrow yard decore remain in their boxes until Oct. 1st and then it will be only the calendar date that will psychologically attempt to transform me into fallish feel. We're all hoping for a cool down.  My nephew in Denver already received a preview of winter with a mini snow-flurry while his sister Katie, I am sure,  is seeing the fall in the East for the first time.  (I hope you are snapping a lot of pics Katie...) I know this is the  favorite season for my friend Diane in Boston who is insisting that when I come out to visit her, I come this time of the year.  So, yes, Autumn...Come...COME to California!






Autumn, come...COME.

Let your sun corral the accumulating clouds;

Low to the sky, capturing the coolness,

Like a tease of rain.


Pilgrims bring...BRING

The harvest to the barn;

Your bounty fills the belly, Thanksgiving fair;
Like the pumpkins bursting from stem.





Season, gaze...GAZE
To the beauty, as it gleams through the groves;

Glancing to ochre, crimson, and gold;

Like a gallery of Van Gogh’s.


Bird, fly...FLY
With familiar family flocks

To feather or forfeit time

Like those always heading home.


Leaf, flutter...FLUTTER,
In the wind lay such frolic

Of murmured whispers beyond the forest,

Like a secret hushed no more.


Moon, rise...RISE
As the rhapsody of night returns;

Overseeing the charge of darkness

Like a sentry alert on command.

Wind, whip...WHIP
Across the new mown fields

Whirling your strength, weakening the leaf

Like a last lover’s goodbye, they hold on till no more.


September, sing…SING

Of sweet summer’s end song.

Surrendered to your last days

Like a tear of bittersweet birth.


October, scream…SCREAM

Until silence shutters spines.

Bats smack at Series closer,

Like a star across the sky.






November rush…Rush
Ring my praise and restore;

My spirit and my purpose

Like a rainbow of promise.




Winter, please...PLEASE,

Do not present yourself too soon.

Leave autumn playing and prancing

Like a child's praises and prayers on a Sunday afternoon.



Timmy and Mommy
at Big Bear Lake
(1985?)





No comments:

Post a Comment