Show-and-Heart Stealer

The first six lines of this poem

I pegged out last night while waiting for the supper crew.

They eventually did come home, 

a little later than normal...

...laughing as they came through the door completely

oblivious to the possibility of steaming cook and

cool food instead of steaming food and cool cook😅

(Actually, one of the great things about being on the lookout for poem-potential is

I am NEVER a steaming cook! I'm an oh-great-A-bit of-unexpected-writing-time-cook!

And yes, this kind of cook sometimes burns over-cooks supper😑

The rest of this poem evolved as today dissolved...

I love the way fall steals the show

While want and wonder ebb and flow

The woodland wick that flares and dims

Cut to the quick by farewell hymns

The brush that highlights bush and bow’r

The hush of twilight’s supper-hour

The glowing benediction of

Rites we have grown to hate and love

Where hearts and hands must learn the art

Of have and hold’s bold counterpart

I love the way a platter snares

The poetry of garden-prayers

Where spoils of toil and mercy meld

In fruit of labor not withheld

Where, as we gather in life’s best

Of hard day’s work and sound night’s rest

We always, first and foremost bring

To Giver, worship’s offering

For health and strength, for harvest yield

From orchard, vineyard, garden, field

I love the way each season spills

A cornucopia of thrills

Where autumn boasts a diadem

Of garnet leaf and berry-gem

But cannot keep for long its crown

From falling-falling-falling down

To ‘splay beneath the barren tree

A picture of mortality

To wake in us need for reply

To so much more than meets the eye

I love the glockenspiel that tolls

And wears fall-fabric full of holes

Where lilt of leaf-song strums until

There is no leaf-song left to spill

Where flowers bloom, but, just like youth

Cannot escape time’s loom of truth

Where cricket-choirs dissipate

Like fires on yon welkin-grate

Where carousel of color twirls

And leaves behind a string of pearls

I love how words like bake and baste

Birth aroma-preludes to taste

Where it is hard to pick and choose

Which favorite recipes to use

But find a few sure to delight

Everyone’s eager appetite

Where cinnamon, ginger and sage

Please palates of most any age

And pumpkin finds its way into

Anything we cook-bake-blend-brew

I love how autumn makes us feel

A little scarlet-umber-teal

A little apple, earth and sea

A trespasser of poetry

A little more aware of how

Swift seasons pirouette and bow

How, in the middle of applause

The scene that Is turns into Was

And new arrangements fill the stage

As subtle as the turn of page

I love when the harvester hums

And gleans the fields of all but crumbs

And even little fellows grin

To see the harvest gathered in

I love autumn on rainy days

Tea-kettle’s hum and candle’s blaze

Content to tackle household chores

Without wishing we were outdoors

I love the way fall steals the heart

With galleries of frameless art 

© Janet Martin

And even little fellows grin

To see the harvest gathered in...