Saturday, October 10, 2015

THREE SEASONS




The Season is getting tired I can feel it in my bones
It is to me late summer my year of three seasons
Now approaches mid October next month is Winter
Cold damp air will burst strongly down upon us.
Swirling fogs slithering with purpose over bogs
Melting fallen leaves into a dark rich mulch.


My old kin knew only Winter, Spring and Summer 
Enough for them and sufficient to feed me.
The vigour of dark nights star filled sparkling
Tangible air crisp vapours secrete silently upwards
Grass crunches like shards of glass under foot
O so strong, this glorious embracing time.


Late December new light is born to minutely stretch
Illuminate an ice coated lake with frost fringed edge
Pillowed snow sleeps quietly to glow under full moon
A covens chant mingles with owls cry as love abides
Waking mother earth to stir revive bring alive babes
Who under hot Summer sun seemingly died.


© MRL  Oct 10th 2015


10 comments:

  1. This is very beautiful - I love the imagery and the return to life at the end.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Jane B.
      My intention when composing this piece was to illustrate the beauty of winter and the fact that there is only three seasons.

      Delete
  2. Linda Hennessy said:
    I love your poem, the images, you conjure, are amazing wordcraft. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thank you for taking me along on your walk through the seasons today. Love, cat.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Am pleased that you enjoyed it Cat and thank you for your comment.

      Delete
  4. ..late Summer.. I like that idea, but I also love the beauty of Autumn and couldn't imagine life without the rich colours and harvesting mother earth's bounty :)
    Winter does hold her own beauty and that you have painted brilliantly in this beautiful composition of your 'Three Seasons'.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for your comments Rose. Actually 'autumn' has only been in vogue since the 1600's, until then those rich colours were seen as being part of the dying of summer.

      Delete
  5. Beautiful, Mel. The imagery is lovely. 'Pillowed snow' and grass ctrunching like shards of glass. Magical and poignant too. The end of the year...

    ReplyDelete