Exposition of Fall's Fruition

 The first verse of this poem was written on Saturday morning then duty prevailed, partly

so I could take fresh pie to a get-together celebrating my five favorite 'f' words...

family, friends, fall, fellowship and food!

This morning Victoria and I could do more than 'wish to wander'. We did.

Tree sheds its maroon halo in a mantle round its feet

The thread that wove its shadow cartwheels across yard and street

Time’s stark realities that do not spare the heart it seems

Are razor-sharp and easily slice through the skin of dreams

The chill wind is a fist that grips us by our swaddled scruff

And scolds us like a child in tones that feel a little gruff

And still, we cannot get enough where sweet and bitter meld

Leaf-petals waft as soft as thoughts of newborns we once held

The breeze through brittle cornfields sounds like summer’s midnight rain

I close my eyes and almost feel July steal through again

And I am glad that some things never lose their ‘my-oh-my’

Like distant fringe of blue-mauve hills that hinges earth to sky

A pageantry of pleasantries poses before it pools

The loom that weaves the plume begins exposing wooden spools

Yet fills our gaze with wonder as if we had never seen

The autumnal unraveling of gold, red, orange and green

The grace that grants the glance that soon we chase with rake and broom

Like unorthodox dancers in a four-season ballroom

Is the same grace whereby we weather winter’s chilling Must

And helps us brave the tether that teaches patience and trust

Creation heeds its Master, never sacrificing awe

Where Beauty breeds new beauty while subject to nature’s law

It does not grapple with the author of Authority

But yields what soon will dapple fields with life’s shucked filigree

Tree sheds its crown of glory, sort of like a jewel-storm

We feel a little sorry for its naked, gnarly form

But still are drawn toward its brooding, wooing masterpiece

Where the Creator’s touch stirs praise that will and cannot cease

© Janet Martin