Late Autumns Breeze

the beauty of fall

The threat of snow hangs in the air,

 as summers last blooms continue to share.

 

Yellows and reds have all faded to brown,

and a cold northerly wind is crisp and loud.

 

Leaves, once spars now look like the sea,

tossed and carried by a late Autumns breeze.

 

The hiss of the fire and crackling wood

lend to the atmosphere as a hot toddy is sipped,

and I set aside Yeats so with you I may reminisce.      

Reviews

[Mary Jo. Clare]

Amazing poem! The vivid imagery truly allows me to visualize what I read! Great job!

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you, Mary. The clouds inspired me.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Sylvia Plath was one of my favorites...sounds like a writing of hers...and she lived in Yeats' house when she ended her life...autumn ends our summers and brings on winter.

we had no real fall this year...this poem is the closest i came to it...summer was suddenly gone and now the leaves are all gone...just like that.
j.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I'll have to look Sylvia up.
Yes our weather has given us an Indian Summer for sure, my roses have never looked better.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

did you ever check out Sylvia?

[Cherrie Palmer]

Yes, I read several of her pieces. She had a unique voice. Thank you for telling me about her