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  #21  
Old 10-15-2017, 09:58 AM
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Ann Drysdale Ann Drysdale is offline
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Thank you, John.
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  #22  
Old 10-15-2017, 12:23 PM
Roger Slater Roger Slater is offline
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Autumn

When leaves fall
my spirits rise.
(That isn't true
but sounded wise.)
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  #23  
Old 10-15-2017, 12:25 PM
Roger Slater Roger Slater is offline
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Mother, Summer, I
by Philip Larkin

My mother, who hates thunderstorms,
Holds up each summer day and shakes
It out suspiciously, lest swarms
Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there;
But when August weather breaks
And rains begin, and brittle frost
Sharpens the bird-abandoned air,
Her worried summer look is lost.

And I her son, though summer-born
And summer-loving, none the less
Am easier when the leaves are gone;
Too often summer days appear
Emblems of perfect happiness
I can't confront: I must await
A time less bold, less rich, less clear:
An autumn more appropriate.
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  #24  
Old 10-15-2017, 02:16 PM
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Felicity Teague Felicity Teague is offline
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Autumn is icumen in

Autumn is icumen in
Lhude sing twittwu
Shrinkeț sed
and dieț med
and fallț țe wde nu
Sing twittwu
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  #25  
Old 10-15-2017, 03:50 PM
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RCL RCL is offline
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Bereavements

When fall winds tear and twist sere leaves,
those falling leaves leave trees bereft.
Summer plumps up fleshy leaves
too soon transformed to severed leaves
falling like tears. The shriveled leaves
are drained of green and gold. Bereft.
When fall winds tear and scatter leaves,
those fallen leaves leave me bereft.
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  #26  
Old 10-15-2017, 06:51 PM
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Douglas G. Brown Douglas G. Brown is offline
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It is the autumn of the year,
The geese above are southward flying;
Election day is drawing near,
And politicians still are lying.
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  #27  
Old 10-16-2017, 01:28 PM
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RCL RCL is offline
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Douglas, ain’t it the truth!?


Acquainted with the Kite

after Frost, Schulz, Charlie Brown and Dante

I have been one acquainted with the kite.
I have exposed it to the wind and rain.
I have released my kite to errant flight.

I have relaxed fall flights near Lovers’ Lane.
I let it swoop near Lucy on our street
And looked away, expecting she’d complain.

It had annoyed some birds, who sang Defeat!
But I heard Marcie’s sigh and Snoopy’s cry.
And Pigpen’s: Do it, Chaz. Don’t get beat.

Make your gnarly marks up in the sky.
I let my paper kite rise out of sight
When Franklin shouted: Charlie, fly it high—

Kite-Eating Trees will always bite for spite!
I have been one acquainted with the kite.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poe...acquainted-wit


(Aside: That stilted column of I’s, and its repetitions elsewhere, along with all those end-stopped lines, make me suspect Frost isn’t crazy about N’s overly formalized egocentricity—as in, “Who in hell hasn’t been acquainted with the night!” Plus that evasive “time was neither wrong nor right”! Closing a neat, if not vicious, circle, arc-welded by the echoing rhymes of start and finish. I don’t buy that Frost himself was much depressed, but rather clever, as usual, in a roundabout way.)
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Last edited by RCL; 10-16-2017 at 01:32 PM.
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  #28  
Old 10-16-2017, 03:10 PM
Michael Cantor Michael Cantor is offline
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The deep red leaves that sing of fall,
September’s highs, October’s fling,
lead me to scribble endless scrawl,
as banal as the writes of spring.
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  #29  
Old 10-16-2017, 07:43 PM
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Gail White Gail White is offline
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I live for the day
when the sunshine stops
the sky turns gray
and the temperature drops

because Louisiana summer
is a bummer.
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