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2009 Poetry Theme Challenges#17 Autumn's Embrace![]() |
I know for Teags it is moving to Spring, but I also know he's been kidnapped to the Northern Hemisphere where it is now Autumn.
Autumn is so rich and vibrant with colour it has inspired artists and writers since time began. So the challenge is to write about
Autumn. John Keats' Ode to Autumn alway springs to my mind so for this challenge I am going to let his words inspire you. I'll also
post some inspiration prompts early next week as I am away this weekend.
Happy quilling Jem XXXX |
Autumn's Embrace Challenge Replies
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Divena Collins![]() Come Autumns carpet of crimson and gold Shed thy leaves, bright colours to behold, Thou hath withered and fallen to the ground, A regal red carpet, strong winds blew down. Lady Autumn curtseys, for her first debut, She haunts the woodlands, now full of grace, A sceptre of death with a beautiful face. Summer hath adorned, the dense woodland green Autumn doth boast, natures variegated scene, An artists brush, with inspiration and flair Captures the moment with precision and care. A mystical autumn, in this season of mists, As darkness ascends, changing all that s bright, Leading the woodlands deep, towards the night. ----- Primeval Tree Of England Oh ye primeval tree of England, gnarled with age, Shedding, once more the leaves of autumns page, Age old myths, within rings of your ancient tome, Returning Autumns neutrients to woodlands loam Ye who have thrived thro`seasonal days of yore, Ne`er a century past, when cast the fruit you bore Wisened branches, weaving outwards to embrace Remembering youth, once natures form of grace. For thou hath felt the chills of winters snow, And faced the floods when rain doth overflow, So deeply grooved the bark around your girth While grasping fibrous roots within the earth, Yet still thy brightened leaves start to fall Whenever this seasonal Autumn begins to call Oh ye primeval tree of England, gnarled with age, Shredding, once more the leaves of Autumns page. ![]() ----- Sweet Autumn Fantasy Images of love, she smiles in a field of gold, Summer past, autumn winds begin to play, Dreams of ecstasy, wrinkled leaves unfold. Pleasures of the heart, are hers this day, A new dawn, is her lover, senses awaken, She lay down, in an amber, and russet bed, Where divine fruits, of autumn are shaken. Chestnuts, now strewn, where they tread. Sweet innocence of youth, in all her glory Feeling the folds of nature, take it`s part Deeply she, who yearns this seasonal story, Treasuring precious moments in her heart, Gathering all the beauty, and inspiration Holding it forever there, in a painted mind Yielding now, within her own temptation, Composed in autumn`s fantasy, resigned. ![]() back to list |
Lorainne DafneyThe wind, the rain, the snow and sunshine Have all kissed the garden I call mine I swear I hear the roses whispers Since they and I have become sisters I greet all that grows each day with love I tend to each with worn gardening gloves Autumn's tapestry makes it divine back to list |
Ryter Roethical![]() I always love the early autumn With dying leaves of Gold and Brown The fallen leaves upon the lawn A crinkled patchwork eiderdown. So on life goes ad infinitum A time of rest for all that's grown I always love the early autumn With dying leaves of Gold and Brown To Earth a time of sleep has come Is wearing now a drab nightgown Some beasts also prepare their home Gathering what summer has grown I always love the early autumn With dying leaves of Gold and Brown ----- Autumn of Swans ![]() It seems to be my new favourite place I watch the swans gathering to leave. I thought all swans were the same, Then I remembered where I was, the USA. Nothing is the same especially the climate And the swans must fly south to survive Because all too soon there will be a storm And then there will be no food to live. I remember six months ago in another place Watching swans swim around so regally Ignoring winters onset, there would be no snow No lack of food, no need for her to fly away. She still took on a thicker coat for warmth Because where she lives it still gets cold, But in a few months all will have changed And again we'll see beauty to behold. ----- Journeys ![]() Autumn evokes her scenes and melodies Where colours are enhanced in clearer skies. Looking around we see natures casualties, Lying strewn across still green coloured lawns The green may stay and later from time to time Reflect nature's mood and echo a silver veneer Or be hidden for a while under a white blanket. The casualties lie there like any other corpses Gradually returning their gifts to mother Earth Till all that's left is the skeletal frame. That also will become part of the next generation Where budding trees and plants scent out Incognisant of past events and noble deeds Til once again they have spread their seeds. ----- New England Thoughts ![]() A cooling breath steals life from the leaves And the leaves lose their lustrous greens Taking on a Kaleidoscope of vivid colours From pale yellow to rich gold or a deep red. This mellow scene attracts so many visitors In reality they're seeing the death of a year And nature creating the nakedness of winter Where stark blacks contrast with white snow. It leaves me feeling unprepared, I'm an alien I'm a stranger with different experiences More prepared to view this as a time of sleep Where chilly short days need long sleeves. I know that winter eves are spent by fires Believing in a short time warmth will follow. Our burnt out forests look dark and sallow But come spring will be green once again. ----- October 11 2009 ![]() Now I've driven south as far as I need go And must say farewell to all my friends Some old, some new, who I'm glad to know Some moved on following their own path To others I had to say; "It's time to go now," Knowing my promise to return is true And fate willing will be able to share part Of my path in life with them next year. We shared so much these last few weeks And time flashed by as is her crazy way We saw the colours change along our road Where the green of life changed to other hues Bringing the end of one life to promise of new And so it will be with us, parting is not death It is the birth or rebirth of life and love With the promise of new dreams for the future. ----- Yearly Yakka ![]() Now Autumn has turned her back to us And once hot days and warm nights Have returned to indifference at best. Former lush green colours become drab Or have turned to various shades of red That will in turn become shades of brown Ending as empty skeletons on a sodden floor. Once considered cute, creatures rush around Ignorant of human wishes because of their desire To survive the imminent threats of winter And mandatory sleep becomes a way of life So there must be a store of needed food That will be unavailable for many months And now present feasts become a famine. Similarly avian life will be seen in flocks Flying eventually south towards the sun Following routes established millennia ago By prehistoric life and ignored by man Who still had to learn to stand erect And his pretentious descendants Who selfishly seek to own the world. ----- Zero Birds on Route 44 ![]() The rain has ceased with the start of morn Now I can't see the Cape because of mist. For just a while the whole world seems still Even more because of my Australian mind. I miss the sound and flight of birds. There is ample green, and trees abound, Tis only fall; surely they cannot all have flown . Not even the humble sparrow graces the scene. back to list |
Khia TaylorCome dance with me, my winged escape and skip the skies in flight we'll let the wind lick at our nape and subtle touch invite. Our cares we'll toss to milky moon and resonate our silky tune- our cares we'll toss our cares we'll toss in freedom's name our love commune. Come float with me, my winged escape on billowed waves of blue we'll lift the night mist's heavy drape and sail on moonbeams through. This golden eve will whisper dreams on silver sheets where all it seems- this golden eve this golden eve cascades our love down rushing streams. Come bloom with me my winged escape in midnight's breathless hour my petals spread 'neath stardust cape to nature's heady power. We'll give ourselves to Spring's last rites awaken sleeping appetites we'll give ourselves we'll give ourselves and Autumn's zenith expedite. ----- Lady Autumns Etchings Towards the end of Summer's hot, exhausting reign Lady Autumn slips in sly and subtle- only a hint on the wind. She tickles the clouds until they roll and gather in afternoon rumbles of laughter, stirring the slumbering chill Whispering with a wink, she bides her time, coy and poised. Taking note, the leaves ripen with joy and begin their preparation for the change of color guard. On cue, Nature ushers her in, flowing with delicate boldness. Trees tremble their anticipation, releasing tipsy leaves that flitter awe and approval in the heady breeze landing prostrate - an offer for her to etch her sage poetry on their drying backs, for they are her prolific papers The flurry of her quill radiates her thoughts and rhymes. These playful sheets capture her insights for all to see. Her secrets of life carpet the ground, gathering against fences and are raked into tantalizing piles where children will jump and bathe in her imagery - the whispers and magic they still hear. They toss her thoughts into the air, scattering dappled puns wisdom clinging in their hair- tickling down shirts. They feel the quiet brush of her rhythm and lore and drink in her leafy poems, both brief and deep. back to list |
Nia Wynne![]() Scarlet letters fall from ethereal trees Whose arms hold the escritoire of a heart, Burnished, beating, blazing for a word from thee For thou art the aire in her branches Breezing through the tiniest twig of thought, Thinking now that Falls Queen has met her King, A Prince among the oaks set in snow starred fields As the Meadow Lark sings in the lea where loves leaves have fallen. ----- Heart in Burgundy ![]() In deepest burgundy this pen is dipped To swell the lines of a poet hearts blood, No scrawl of pencil lead gray Except whence comes the color of age Upon a once tawny brown head, For summers spent it's seeds all around And Falls lillies now bend instead with lustrous crowns. back to list |
Maryse and WillowdownAutumn in his coat of old, stitched leaves came knocking at my door, rustling fingers tapping at my window-pane; oh, but why should I let you in, I'm warm and comfy in my chair, a little bit of summer still warm and dancing in my grate, a glass of brandy in my hand and ginger biscuits on a plate... Go away, Autumn, you have nothing that I want; I've pots and pans (and blueberry jam), mittens for my hands at night and well-worn slippers for my feet... why, my little life is almost complete! No use knocking on my door, please try further down the street. "Let me come inside" pleads Autumn "I have gold I want to share Covering the trees and hillsides Just before they all turn bare. I won't be as hot as summer, Nor as fickle as the spring, I don't have the bite of winter That can freeze 'most anything. You can still enjoy your brandy Keep your feet and fingers warm Please allow me in dear poet I won't do you any harm. Look outside and see my beauty Spread as far as eye can see Surely you can bid me enter. Show some hospitality." "Go away, Autumn, you make my old bones ache and mortify my mind with intimations of mortality . Winter at least is chill and chaste but your protestations of beauty offend me - all I see is sad decay and the perishing of things held dear. The song you sing is sad and drear, you reduce the trees to skeletons and drive a sober man to beer simply to keep the wind at bay. October is full of gales and lamentation, November harbours ancient ghosts... go away from my door and leave me to my tea and toast!" "Poet have your eyes been blinded That you can no longer see? Has your heart become embittered That you speak such treachery? I'm the kindest of the seasons, Loveliest too I might add, And to hear you say such harsh words Makes me rightfully quite mad. I am not the cause of decay Change is something we go through I resent the implication I bring thoughts of death to you. Keep your door closed silly poet, I'm not going anywhere, And I will not take the blame for Your desire to drink beer!" back to list |
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