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FALL

Long tassels of birch hang - golden 
their autumnal attire
like bell-pulls for the seasons opening
so fitfully they swing towards the south
saluting geese in v formation 
their gentle beat of winged migration

september tints the trees 
makes misty mornings rise through rotting woods
carries the perfumes of the valleys
dreams of summer sun into the haven of the heavens 
where clouds make grey backcloths 
for the coloured scene 

lit up by indian summer's waning warmth
the rush of rivers - hushed amongst the falling leaves
their course still fixed on reaching the wide ocean
where made less potent as an entity 
its life subdued
salted to keep 
until the falls of spring give new life to the mountain's lees

this cycle 
so far unchallenged by the stars
proceeds relentlessly towards the final bang
when all we knew of 
know 
and yet will learn
becomes a blank ark 
in the endless skies. 

Margaret Ann Waddicor 10th September 2014. 

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 

Comments

Reading this is one more lesson for me about poetic skill. You keep setting the benchmark. higher & higher which is good for an amateur like me.

Respectfully,

raj (sublime_ocean)

like raj...
I also feel
you take us a step higher
in your imitable poetic field

I hardly can do high jump
you want to pole vault me
a silly poet once ...Istan
has come a long way ma'am
hopefully....
you may some
poetry of my scan
if only you can...

with high and fondest regards
I always held you in high esteem
old loved
now lovedly
only technically

your progress through the years has always excelled in descriptive
prowess...

thank you!

That the shades of many colours floated before my eyes.
That the warm air slows to a trickle on my skin today.
Were I to brush the leaves that fall or just play,
This would be shadowed by your Fall.
Great write as always.
Yours Ian

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

i always enjoy your work especially eskers comment on the pocket orgasm ,,,heeee good imagery golds i see

When read, this one actually "feels" like Fall is starting! Your imagery is impeccable and the way you weave all the components of the poem together is poetry itself! Very nicely written!

Love following you through the seasons, and this is another poem i've enjoyed very much. Love Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

does any one know why ?

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