A Poem by Leslie Philibert

for Carl Sharpe

Autumn is a frozen church
We wait at heavy doors
That smell of rust,
Not a moon cold enough
To be called heartless
Or breathclouds of old steam
More an estuary of
Dumped mist afraid to ice;
The taste of wax on your lips;
A frame of hair round a
Hatted face, our steps as slow
As if we must tread water,
You are ice and rain and
The first crystals and even
More than this, beside me.

© 2014 Leslie Philibert

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Autumn is a frozen church,what an interesting expression.
very well crafted.

Posted 6 Years Ago

Is this the same Carl Sharpe as on Verse Writes? His work is very similar but perhaps a little less precise than yours Leslie. As always, sublime in its well crafted, well described photographic metaphors.

Posted 6 Years Ago

beautiful depiction of autumn

Posted 6 Years Ago

reading this again gives me chills, the metaphor and the imagery in this poem is amazing.

Posted 6 Years Ago

I read this a few times and found different meanings - at first glance, you may be speaking of the season, at second perhaps a lost love - someone you have put upon a pedastal - "a frozen church" -
Beautifully written and a pleasure to read.

:) Julie

Posted 6 Years Ago

wonderful use of metaphor : Autumn is a frozen church, it's all very clever. great stuff

Posted 6 Years Ago

this is soo beautiful, I love every single line

Posted 6 Years Ago

you have a fairly unique eye when it comes to observations of thew world around you

Posted 6 Years Ago

She appears to be, at least, one church at which you worship.
Stately, yet undeniably charming, Leslie
High-level work, my friend.

Posted 6 Years Ago

This poem is metaphorical the way I see it. There is an implied metaphor of a woman who is as cool as Atumn. If 'Atumn is a froozen church' that woman must be godly, since chuch is a body where we raise godly women. Your last three lines struck me most. Well written.

Posted 6 Years Ago

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52 Reviews
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on September 28, 2014
Last Updated on September 28, 2014


Leslie Philibert
Leslie Philibert

Bavaria, Germany

I`m not important. I just want to write a couple of good poems. Just read what I write. That`s enough. more..

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A Poem by Leslie Philibert

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