Another Porch ...A Poetry Blog

Garden-scapes are strangely quiet... Sheared and shucked and tucked and tilled... Hushed, the heaven-on-earth riot... Of frames, fruit and f...

How it tugs at tender heartstrings; November's bronze-brown-blue-grey... Suddenly we are all children gazing wide-eyed... ...at the Crea...

I linger intentionally these days; days that time flies through! 'oops! Sorry gramma!' He kissed Baby Jesus and said 'nap' a...

  Something about the early dark of November kindles nostalgia... Sometimes, like an old song a bygone era reappears To replay on a phantom ...

The poet's bliss is November... Sentimental hues arouse... Warmth from autumn’s waning embers... Wafting from nigh-barren boughs... Wher...