From Newsgroup: alt.arts.poetry.comments

NancyGene wrote:

HarryLime wrote:
AUTUMN RISING
(Mabon 2025)


The first hobgoblin-chill hangs in the air
And old men tremble in the hearthfire's glow,
While in the distant hills, a chestnut mare
Is silhouetted in the afterglow
Of late September's pumpkin-orange sky.

My memories lie tangled in the grass
Like carcasses of rats in Winter fields;
I watch the Summer's final hours pass,
September green to earth-toned Autumn yields
To cover all my homeland with a sigh.

Days cling to days like gathered stalks of corn,
Watch passersby with ragged, hollow gaze;
Love walked these roads till, like the harvest, torn
From earth, set off for greener walks and ways --
For bluer eyes and warmer hands than mine.

A log of hickory crackles in the fire;
The land is streaked with crimson, brown, and gold.
I watch the Autumn changes that transpire
With passive nod that comes from growing old
And sip my glass of dandelion wine.

The imps of Autumn huddle round my door
And sing their goblin-songs of broken joy;
For Fall is here and Summer comes no more,
And all the prayers and spells I might employ
Fall cold and lifeless as the morning rain

That waters fallow fields when harvest's done.
And as I listen to their mirthless song,
I wonder where the Summer days have gone;
And why love's wasted tears seem to belong
Wrapped in dead weeds that will not bloom again.

Love the poem and the long hair!

Thanks NancyGene.

My hair used to reach below my waist back in the day. I doubt it will be able to get that long again, but I'm thinking about giving it a try.


This is a response to the post seen at: http://www.jlaforums.com/viewtopic.php?p=696931377#696931377
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