Thursday, November 30, 2017

Farewell to November...



Wind whines through skeletal outlines of summer
Earth pines for luster of fresh-fallen coats
Nature, resplendent in garb of November
Composes eulogies lodged in our throats

Unsung harbinger of white winter-lands
Slipping frost fingers through bright-mittened hands
Whetting farewell’s threshold of *Auld Lang Syne
Tucking last leaves into eaves and fence-lines

This place of graves cradles more than braved hours
Earth is an echo-land, promise-entwined
Hope finds a foothold on hills primed with flowers
While eyes scan skylines of still-life resigned

Dash, freckled fellow and giggle, wee girlie
…where twilight tiptoes across porches early
November bids us remember somehow
How suave the bidding that doffs here and now

Soon the bare bough will bulge with budded fervor
Soon what seems beaten will restore its vim
Soon the stilled plow will return to the furrow
Soon trees will tremble with nature’s glad hymn

Round by the casements of cottage winds whimper
 While we stoke fires and prep hearts for winter
But like a vagabond, blue and unkissed
November disappears in rain and mist

© Janet Martin

*The phrase "for auld lang syne" essentially boils down to "for (the sake of) old times".

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