Aha! I said this morning.
So THAT'S what was in yester-dusk's transfixing hues of blue!
November blues offset the hues of nature’s sparser clime
To wake within the heart a grin akin to joy bell’s chime
To draw our eyes beyond the rise and fall of season-surf
And feel the toll of transience roll across surrendered turf
I think the poet’s ink is siphoned from November blues
A welkin well where whispers swell and syllable subdues
A brooding deep above a sweep of sentenced green-gold-gray
A sacred sense of an immense changeover under way
November blues thunder with dues we cannot keep at bay
Where woodland throbs with muffled sobs of leaf-song snuffed away
Barren limbs stark against the early dark of Autumn dusk
As nature sets its silhouettes on backdrops, blue and brusque
November blues; who can refuse the sentimental *rush
Of lowered skies authoring sighs of awe beneath a brush
That drips with hues of smold'ring blues that steals our breath and gaze
As Artist spills a storm of thrills from fall's more muted trays
November blues unfetter hues of frigid, downy-white
Where on the morn the heart is torn twixt dismay and delight
A strange tableau, transformed by snow, yester-ago far-swept
Where blue unfurled a wonderworld of winter while we slept
© Janet Martin
* yes, I mean rush (not crush)
unlike Grandsonny yesterday morning
announcing to his mom that
'I got a big rush on Millie'
(name changed for privacy sake)😂
His mother assumes someone must have
used the word 'crush'😄😘
Sigh...'I suppose it's not so-o bad' acquiesced Victoria
(a fellow-November blues lover)
gazing out to the serene snow-globe scene
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