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Spring comes with the whispering bells
Of forsythia, then the tulips and daffodils
Announce to the land their yellow swell;
All settles to a galaxy of summer green.
Soon the wildflowers and their chromatic
Spectacles fill the trails and meadowed gardens,
As the crimson flora fades and is forgotten.

In time, the harvest moon alights the night
And a new yellowness explodes in brightness
Upon the soft sea of embroidered daisies,
The final blooming to the shortening days
Leading to the kaleidoscopic October.
The leaves then scatter to a jackknife dying
And scorch the earth with jaundiced sighing.

How indifferent is the white of the winter sky
To the owl’s wild bejeweled eyes!
The seasons change to the color of fire,
The beginning and end of green’s desire.

Last few words: 
I spend a lot of time in the National Arboretum in Washington DC, 650 acres of one of the worlds great garden parks which curiously nobody goes to. I can spend a week there and not see another person. Suddenly this week all the daisies bloomed making huge fields of solid yellow. I started thinking about that color and the change of seasons. As a nature poem, it is purposely "flowery" and musical, and I hope, fun to read.
Editing stage: 


A very good write and held the seasons ways with great aplomb, a variety of things passing by as does the times of year.
Hope you do well in the comp, sorry about the lack of people where you are they cannot know what they are missing, I was brought up in the country so love the open spaces where ever they are. I did visit the outside of where you work a few years ago, but was just passing through.
Take care, Yours Ian..

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Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

new flower
what a yellow
may you win again

we reading you
will out of the ring
have to remain
our loss your gain
in the vast lonely wilderness
only you can remain

I inside my prison
do sustain
as I only try to use my brain
through the window of my mind
autumn comes and flies again
how silent can I remain
alas in vain!

for your very unique response. I am glad my mention of the forsythia so ignited your imagination. You should post it as a poem!

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

It does seem that yellow and gold are the colors of coming autumn. I enjoyed the read........stan

I guess I expect no less, though a tad too "flowery and musical" to my taste, but I'm a jaded, cynical old fart.
If I wrote an autumnal piece it would probably use the word 'fall' for autumn and be all symbolic about the fall of civilisation as we know it, but I ain't gonna do it. [smiles]

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