Thursday, September 22, 2022

Of Spent Summer or Of Summer Spent

 Happy First Day of Fall 

The hour is upon us
Where bower, fen and dell
Are laden with the onus
Of flowering farewell

The season of Spent Summer
Like an ocean of stars
Hangs soft upon the tremor
Of autumn’s kindled bars

In thrum of shadow-dapples
In rum-colored remains
In sums of plums and apples
And wild aster-fringed lanes

In diamond studded fretwork
Of gossamer design
Where spider’s artful network
Dazzles shrubs, gates and vines

In countless ways and wonders
Of teeming crook and crease
Earth’s quiet canvas thunders
With many a masterpiece

In Cana lily taper
Brandishing scarlet flares
In leaves, like gilt-edged paper
A Fine Author prepares

In 'toxicating scents of
Ginger, cinnamon, cloves
In foraged storage boxes
For sweaters, scarves, hats, gloves

In zinnia pomp and splendor
In bossy blue jay shriek
In contemplative candor
Of truths time cannot tweak

In hunts for garden treasure
Of Yukon gold and such
In savoring the measure
Of moments meeting/meting touch

In revamped whims and wishes
In sun-glossed tassels tossed
With Jack Frost's first soft kisses
And roses summer lost

The hour is upon us
Where the gleam in Time’s gaze
Stokes a sacred awareness
Of man’s flower-like days

© Janet Martin

...and what a stunning debut to the first day of fall!

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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!