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The Year Moves On.
Too soon the trees begin to
hold the softening blush
of autumn;
the faintest touch of gold
has brushed across their
open palms,
nature looks upon her
paints and readies now
her palette.
Too soon the trees begin to
hold the softening blush
of autumn;
the faintest touch of gold
has brushed across their
open palms,
nature looks upon her
paints and readies now
her palette.
soon
trees softening blush - consonance repeated s's alliterate the opening. Then overt poetic devices -hold blush- like a face in cold winds of fall/winter. Painter theme in gold brushed and capped by personified nature's paint to pallette.This is one miraculous poem. Along with silibant s sounds, the t's and p's pop when read aloud. The netaphor for leaves changing color is done without mentioning leaves. Leaves of the tree are palms - more personification. Change is anthropomorphized completely. Excellence lives and breathes in this metrically symetric gem collected brilliantly in the summation title. Good literary art work poet! You should send it to your local newspaper and share this sing if transitioning more widely. It is perfect. ~S~
Gosh what an amazing indepth
Gosh what an amazing indepth analysis of this poem, your words have really taken me by surprise I had not realised it contained all that. I wish we had studied English and more importantly poetry at my school but anything other than the bare bones basic's were not offered to us. Thank you so much for such an insightful look into the heart of my written words. :-) sue.