November-Hushed

Garden-scapes are strangely quiet...

Sheared and shucked and tucked and tilled...

Hushed, the heaven-on-earth riot...

Of frames, fruit and flower-filled

Autumn's auburn awnings dwindled

Golden haloes dimmed and fell...

Autumn's auburn awnings dwindled

Golden haloes dimmed and fell

Earth, a hearth of embers kindled

With November-hushed farewell

Hushed, lush, lofty leaf-song rivers

Nature's funereal repose

Quickens sentimental shivers

From our heads down to our toes

Garden-scapes are strangely quiet

Sheared and shucked and tucked and tilled

Hushed, the heaven-on-earth riot

Of frames, fruit and flower-filled

Hushed, the carefree, barefoot banter

Of life-heady, laughing child

Heedless of Time's fixed decanter

Spilling where farewells run wild 

Like a heart learning love's lessons

Earth endures That Which Must Be

Time's cacophony of seasons

Age-old, still stuns you and me 

Where the bud bursting with treasure

Bears its bloom, withers and falls

Till the whole of nature's pleasure

Decks November's doleful/soulful halls

Hushed beneath a sheath of snowflakes

Hope and joy toll welkin bells

Comforting a world of heartaches

With November-hushed farewells   

  © Janet Martin

 

Hushed, the carefree, barefoot banter

Of life-heady, laughing child...