Autumn's Rainy Goodnight Serenade

 'Simple and quite ordinary but sometimes utterly stunning.' 

from Brenda @ It's a Beautiful Life

The above comment from today's post at Brenda's blog

 aroused a wild desire to draw from the simple and quite ordinary evening, something

(okay, maybe this isn't utterly stunning) 

but something to remember it by...

the beauty of simple things~

The harmony of supper-hour traffic homeward bound through autumn rain evokes a sweet and sentimental tug where gleaming decoupage of leaves, like lamplight on the ground enchants workaday weariness with something like a hug

The lowering of lullabies as dusk begins to fold autumnal red and gold into umbral, blue-gray manteau

Seems to reflect idyllic scenes from simpler days of old as daylight slips and drips into frameworks of long ago

Raindrop tap-dancers dapple driveway, street and promenade, punctuating farewell with silver exclamation tears while we delight in Autumn’s Rainy Goodnight Serenade until the world above and all around us disappears

© Janet Martin

or this...

The harmony of supper-hour traffic homeward bound 

through autumn rain evokes a sweet and sentimental tug 

where gleaming decoupage of leaves, like lamplight on the ground 

enchants workaday weariness with something like a hug

The lowering of lullabies as dusk begins to fold 

autumnal red and gold into umbral, blue-gray manteau

Seems to reflect idyllic scenes from simpler days of old 

as daylight slips and drips into frameworks of long ago

Raindrop tap-dancers dapple driveway, street and promenade,

punctuating farewell with silver exclamation tears

while we delight in Autumn’s Rainy Goodnight Serenade 

until the world above and all around us disappears

© Janet Martin

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...

Five Senses Smorgasbord or Autumn Accolades

These days earth's Smorgasbord groans with Autumn's abundancy

appealing to all the senses but especially taste and see...

Season where halos overhead...

float leaf by leaf...

to lawn and street...

And so, we muster up excuses fine reason to put indoor chores on pause...

Because we know how soon this season drifts away like milkweed gauze...

Season where halos overhead float leaf by leaf to lawn and street

Where hazy, lazy days turn red and gold and crisp and apple-sweet

Where woodland beauty turns our heads and steals the autumn-lover’s heart

Where nature’s loom weaves lustrous threads that only God’s touch can impart

Season of flower-frond farewells as petal bells, frost-kissed, are stilled

Of fields where harvest homage swells as bins and barns and jars are filled

Of oh, so silent aftermath as hymn of limb and field are doffed

Of foot-fall vacant garden path, save for the frames where echoes waft

Season of epicurean thrills, seasoned with cinnamon and cloves

Where nature is a fount that spills to nutmeg-ginger-tinted groves

That dwindles fall’s pigment from heights like a slow-ebbing color-sea

And rekindles our appetites for books and cozy nooks and tea

Season of comfy sweaters tugged from shelves and boxes long forgot

Where we feel warm and wooly hugged and dance a jig right on the spot

Where thanksgiving is not about the meal of turkey, dressing, pie

But daily living out life’s zeal of gratefulness in rife reply

Season of lingering outdoors because we sense the numbered days

Before the chill of winter roars through corridors where sumacs blaze

And so, we muster up excuses fine reason to put indoor chores on pause

Because we know how soon this season drifts away like milkweed gauze

Season of acorn, butternut squash, pumpkin popularity

Of hearty chowders, succotash, of simmer-steep-knead gaiety

While the wind whinnies like a horse tossing the tress of tree and reed

While nature takes its steady course of bud to bloom to scattered seed

Season where longing mingles with gentle contentment, bittersweet

Where tingle of excitement and lament for what is spent compete

Season of simple wishes like savouring autumn’s melody

And delighting in the delicious smorgasbord of Taste and See

© Janet Martin

And rekindles our appetites for books and cozy nooks...

... and tea

September's Remnant or September Leaves

Here's to the last week of September/summer's embers...

This poem is for we who mourn the loss of sun-warm hours and flowers

Yet eagerly await autumn's ambience and Beauty-brilliant bowers

I had to keep reigning this poem in...

It was eager to become a full-fledged fall poem but not yet!

Let's linger on September's remnant, shall we?

Time enough for autumn to have its way...

I couldn't quite decide what picture to use on this post

so it was just waiting, then I went to get the mail

and in the mailbox was a thoughtful surprise

 dropped off by a friend. 

(I partially blotted the name for privacy's sake)

This bundle reminded me that in a sense

 it is always summer in friendship's world💗😎

September’s remnant slips through cracks of summer season shorn

Where garden plot seems to relax, it’s brunt of bearing borne

Where blue jay’s harsh shriek rends the air where purple asters stream

Where poplar fronds begin to flare and pumpkin lanterns gleam

September’s remnant snares where we cannot undo its thread

Earth’s dusty, musky thoroughfares don glints of gold and red

And while we stare at summer spent, we feel it steal within

Where fingers cannot circumvent the tug of buds worn thin

Thought lingers for a little in past’s precious picture-show

Where time turns lush leaves brittle in its subtle undertow

Each treetop like a candle waiting on earth’s window sill

September’s remnant mantle like a fading canticle

Ah, who can bear to mope where hope pitches its sterling tent

September’s remnant gilds the slope where summer came and went

It dapples orchard limbs and lanes with apples, sweet yet tart

As hunger grapples with the pains that farewell’s pangs impart

The wind is like a busker playing saxophone and flute

Its audiences gather beneath lampposts full of fruit

Longing and satisfaction's sabers flash and clash; crowds roar

Caught on the sparkles of a splash that was and is no more

October loiters in yon brake, eager to be unfurled

And turn summer’s lackluster wake into a colour-world

To gather up September’s remnant in jubilant toll

Turning loss to contentment with beauty out of control

As expectation is fulfilled in autumn’s gorgeous show

As goldenrod turns silver-gilt and woodland-torches glow

With autumn’s awesome tinsel, scarlet, auburn, russet, bronze

Happiness finds fresh footholds as September’s remnant wans

© Janet Martin

Ah, who can bear to mope where hope pitches its sterling tent...

Acknowledgement of Fall's Wild and Wet Debut

The first day of fall flew through floodgates flung wide...

The second day is offering a brief breather before round two...

Fall flew through floodgates flung ajar

It flailed the crinkled countryside

And wailed at every bolstered door

That just the day before stood wide

Fall’s entrance drenched earth’s sanguine bars

September’s summer embers doused

No quixotic, poetic stars

In sighs by blue-eyed skies aroused

Fall roared like an enraged tigress  

Or like a savage beast set free

It tore at nature’s tousled tress

With tireless ferocity

Fall made its entrance, wet and wild

As if somehow a mild debut

Of sun-kisses on summer’s child

Would have been far too Déjà vu

© Janet Martin

Fond Farewell-Forge

We are always on the verge of Fond farewells,

but hallelujah, we are also always on the verge of Hello's unfolding rose.

Farewell is love's most Bitter Sweet!

How, after all the autumns 

Where spent leaf-laughter lies 

Does Time’s meted momentum 

Still take us by surprise 

After being buried in snow 5 days ago

this autumn summer is ever so much sweeter!!

Ah, manifest momentum 

Of seasoned gravity 

The swaying of a pendulum 

We feel but cannot see 

Over harvest-cropped landscape 

A wave of hunger heaves 

Farewell is always taking shape 

In the summer of leaves 

How, after all the autumns 

Where spent leaf-laughter lies 

Does Time’s meted momentum 

Still take us by surprise 

…to force the heart to wrestle 

With tides it cannot vex 

Where Farewell is a vessel 

Laden with what is next 

Life’s white heat on love’s anvil 

Forges fond farewell’s art 

But cannot touch or trample 

The showcase of the heart 

So, as we ponder hours 

Where farewell fills the room 

Remember, hello’s flowers 

Are bursting into bloom 

…to steep life’s dusk or autumn 

With wonder to behold 

Gilding the most commonplace frond 

In etching of pure gold 

© Janet Martin

the past few dusk's have been 

drop-everything-and-behold 

beautiful!

as earth's echo-land is etched in gold

To everything there is a season, 

A time for every purpose under heaven:

Eccles.3:1