October

She whispers

in my ear

with

bright breath

sweet

as death

telling me

the end is near

Is it any wonder

I fall under

her spell?

Over in the Imaginary Garden  Mama Zen remind us that words count, as she had us write 53 or fewer words personifying October.

Of Magpies and Toads

    Muscian in the Rain by Robert Doisneau

I love you darling

with your comfort at arm’s length.

but when rain falls soft

on black and white autumn days

I seek the warmth of your touch.

This is generated by writing prompts from two wonderful writing sites.  The first, IGRT, is responsible for the form, which is called tanka.  A tanka contains 31 syllables in a line pattern of 5/7/5/7/7. Check out the link for a much more complete description, and other writers' tankas.  The second source, The Mag, has provided the picture.  Check that site for more writers' responses to this image.

And Then November

I don’t see you come

but I feel your cold breath

on my back.

Your gaze stoops my shoulders

and I wither

inside,

curling in

around the dark

like the petals of a flower.

A dozen shades

of brown and grey

fill my eyes.

A killing frost is coming;

I must prepare the ground.

This is for G-man and his FF55.  I missed you all the last couple weeks! 

And this is also for d'Verse where Claudia wants us to write about color, and for  Writers' Digest PAD (writing prompts for November's poem a day challenge).  Today's challenge was "appear" and I tried to do it without using the word itself.

November

   November strips down to her essence-

   a dozen shades of brown and grey.

   October’s color-riot fades into memory,

   while a spare, somber beauty remains.

   Geese call mournful farewells

   as they retreat to the southern kingdom.

   The spring will bring an agony of birth

   but now, Earth folds in upon herself

   as she prepares for sleep.

Written for FF55 writing prompt.  Join us with 55 words of your own.

Image by Mary Bach 

Cold Shoulder Trio

1.     

          autumn mist softens

    the bleak forest cathedral:

    visual incense

2.        such beauty in death

    golden, crimson, and umber

    descend as fall leaves

3.      intricate, lacy

   artwork for my window pane

   thank you Mr. Frost

I'm not a haiku master, but I have girded my er..self, and these are my attempt for Grace at IGRT

Images by wallpaperswide.com, thelonggoodbye.wordpress.com, weathersavy.com

Autumn Migration

    Photo credit: Google image, Muskrat's Photos

Cold grey geese

wing away;

smudges dancing between the lines

of earth and heaven

fill my sky

and my ears

Migration is necessary for survival;

time is passing

earth is rotating

seasons are slipping away

And here I stand, rooted

in this sheltered glen

dead leaves at my feet

watching it all

pass by

This is for Mr. Know-it-all Friday 55.  Go there to find lots of 55 word gems.

Time Passed

In the frosty morning

each grass blade coated, silvery,

crunches as I step.

A leaf falls

and another

and a thousand.

They are so lovely as they die

When did this happen?

I wasn’t paying attention, then

I turned and summer was gone. 

Days diminish;

November closes in

dark and stark and raw.

This was written for Mr. Knowitall's Flash Friday 55.  To see lots of 55 word poems and stories click on the name.  Try one yourself!

Autumn haiku

Here is a haiku. Pretty simple, but I like the play on words.


Oh the autumn leaves
Such extravagant beauty
As the autumn leaves

Autumn

It isn't officially autumn for a couple days, but it feels and looks and smells like fall in Wisconsin today. This is a poem I wrote awhile ago that I still like. I think it describes September in Wisconsin pretty well.

September

September is the turning time.
As Monarchs move to warmer lands
They foreshadow
Flashing, falling leaves
Of Autumn’s cloak.

She empties her cupboards
Feeding us left-over summer,
Grown limp and wilted
Towards the end,
Making room for fresh fall days
And mellow nights.

She is generous with her garden.
Treasure lies buried in potato hills,
Round, red raspberries bejewel bushes,
And golden mums heap
Beyond the wildest dreams of Midas.

September gives us faith.
There is enough;
We can move past the point
Where light and shadow
Balance on the fulcrum
Of autumnal equinox.

Then scarlet Sumacs
Wave good bye to Summer
And beckon Autumn, “Come.”