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Mosaic Musings...interactive poetry reviews _ ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Exhibition Prior to 2006 _ The Wealthiest Time

Posted by: Tao Sep 15 04, 21:30

Autumn is the wealthiest time.

Oh, winter is regal, but dull.
In its time of gloom, it bleaches
the gritty ground white to reflect
a blue-gray sky, that pours
down indolent cinder trails
into red brick and flagstone chimneys.

And spring - springs from this lull,
dancing like an unseasoned child
too festive for its own good,
splashing carelessly its random colors
like stolen toys it’ll never have again.
For all its youth, spring isn’t king.

Summer, now it’s getting warm.
In a blaze it blooms the belated flowers
that waited for a mature birth,
to be burned…and savored by the breeze
that bares its name, in the sun’s full glory
that only it can bear.

But autumn is the wealthiest time.

She’s seen the others' intensity,
all their tints and tones,
then chose wisely her single color.
While they dithered in dazzle,
she glitters her subjects in riches
they can’t match – the world’s awash
in her time of ever melting gold.

Posted by: Cleo_Serapis Sep 19 04, 08:39

Ohhhh - lovely David! lovie.gif

Thanks muchly!
~CLeo laugh.gif

Posted by: Tao Sep 19 04, 11:51

Glad you like it and hope that's brings you one page closer to a completed chapbook!

David :)

Posted by: Ephiny Sep 19 04, 11:59

I agree completely David!  I LOVE Autumn..it has to be the most colourful season, and the most interesting!  According to my calender, tomorrow is the day that day and night have equal lengths sun.gif


And spring - springs from this lull,
dancing like an unseasoned child
 I love these lines...totally sums up how unpredictable spring is!  And the point you make about autumn containing most of the good points of the other seasons!

Great work :pharoah2

Posted by: Tao Sep 19 04, 13:06

Whew! running after your replies, Lucie,

For some reason, autumn also appears the most emotional to me, the season of reckoning. It’s the sunset of the year, before a long winter night. It’s the cleaning after a wild Farewell Party (my other autumn poem here), when the trashcans are emptied and the band pack their instruments away. I can go on, but I think I’ll save that for another autumn poem.

Hmmm, day and night equaled, treated as equals only twice a year, is that the equinox? Now there’s an interesting word. Thanks for your comments, deary. I’ll go answer me mail now…

David wave.gif

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