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Saturday, October 29, 2022

Of Paling Autumn-tide...



Tucked between stunning sunrises and sunsets
a week of busy, beautiful autumn days and fall foliage farewells
whirled away...



Of senses steeped in heavens heaped with bottomless azure
Of hunger held where moments meld to moments like felled leaves
of awesome blaze of autumn days, no awed gaze can secure
of joy and grief as leaf-by-leaf earth gathers final sheaves

of happiness and loneliness in autumn’s madrigal
of dappled skies as lullabies are loosened from the limb
of mellow, yellow bliss in the felicity of fall
of landscapes glossed with leaves of frost as lofty tapers dim

of garnet, gold, and umber soldering of farewell’s kiss
of tattered music sheets scattered like fleets on leaf-tossed seas
of vain attempt to circumvent the haste of What Yet Is
of precious days soon blazoning a maze of memories

of hearts beguiled by art run wild in unrivaled release
of brooding blues and dazzling hues in myriad shades of red
of purple hills as morning spills its molten masterpiece
of worship’s woo as winds undo bronze buttons overhead

of pure delight footloose, in spite of ties that snare and bind
of heartstrings caught in every thought besotted by fall’s bow’r
of senses keened by tresses weaned, to what is soon behind
of season spent and reason bent with remnants of lent flow’r

of wisdom earned by lessons learned of what no one can stay
of now and here hinged to a sphere of ages out of reach
of you and I beneath a vault of sky, crowning today
of urge and whim soft burgeoning with what remains to teach

of ‘love-you-so’ and letting go and ‘oh-don’t-leave-me-yet’
of weathering the tethering of dusk-bathed countryside
of cherishing the precious perishing leaf-pirouette
of ships that sail upon a vale of paling autumn-tide

of glint and glance of dizzy dance of leaves across the yard
of taking stock of tick and tock’s inevitable claim
of shadows thinned by a cold wind raking a boulevard
of wooden wicks like candlesticks snuffed of life’s little flame

of scarves of smoke draped on an ochre ambience of death
of days undone by ways common to man since Time was spun
of a rag quilt, pieced, stitched and spilt with every sacred breath
of silver ilk, like milkweed silk snagged on a ray of sun

© Janet Martin






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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!