A sweep of winds through the thistles,
send seeds adrift in a cottony cloud.
All scatter aloft to sow the lea,
to await the spring, 'neath winter's shroud.
Ushered is autumn- from summer's sun,
start of the season requesting its reign.
Arrival for harvesting nature's blooms,
spreading new life across the terrain.
In moons of September's - evening chills,
fate of foliage - wanes like the light.
Mornings that glisten in covered frost,
brings shades of wilt before next night.
From brittle stems to barren boughs,
a granted destiny - every fall.
Days that bear ripened grains,
ages of wisdom to nurture all.
Throughout the expanse of fertile lands,
seedlings nestle in untilled grounds.
With reach stretching to open skies,
the harvest from autumn abounds.
In moons of September's - evening chills, fate of foliage - wanes like the light. Mornings that glisten in covered frost, brings shades of wilt before next night.
.....................
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
Thank you, Elizabeth. Honestly, I really don't know where I come up with some of these verses. I do know that some of them cause my head to hurt when I'm piecing them together.
Yes--has happened to me, (in the past---hardly ever anymore) although when it has, the head hurting part was usually due to some up-in-my-face-(on the front of head, to be exact) difficult reality I was being forced to come to grips with. Almost like "facing something is not real...but 'just a dream'".
...............
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
Do you think you could ever put all your wonderful poems in a book, so I could always have them to hand, to read whenever I want to, without needing to resort to this computer every time (seriously). A book is a lovely thing and your word's deserve the best. X.
Thank you for your sweetness. Although I've been published several times, I don't have enough good material for my own book at the moment. Perhaps one day though.
I love this verse---my
I love this verse---my fav--
In moons of September's - evening chills,
fate of foliage - wanes like the light.
Mornings that glisten in covered frost,
brings shades of wilt before next night.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Thank you, Elizabeth.
Thank you, Elizabeth. Honestly, I really don't know where I come up with some of these verses. I do know that some of them cause my head to hurt when I'm piecing them together.
Yes--has happened to me, (in
Yes--has happened to me, (in the past---hardly ever anymore) although when it has, the head hurting part was usually due to some up-in-my-face-(on the front of head, to be exact) difficult reality I was being forced to come to grips with. Almost like "facing something is not real...but 'just a dream'".
...............
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Do you think you could ever
Do you think you could ever put all your wonderful poems in a book, so I could always have them to hand, to read whenever I want to, without needing to resort to this computer every time (seriously). A book is a lovely thing and your word's deserve the best. X.
Thank you for your sweetness.
Thank you for your sweetness. Although I've been published several times, I don't have enough good material for my own book at the moment. Perhaps one day though.
Seasonal Cycle
I like the growing things, the seeding - fine penning this - Enjoyed reading a wondrous use of rhyme (rare) ~~~ Lady A
Thank you for the kind reply.
Thank you for the kind reply. I'm glad you enjoyed one of my musings. I do try to put my best foot forward.