Year’s End.
Apologies for another autumn poem, I really am trying to find another subject, honestly.
Autumn paints her mural
with a brush as soft as silk,
coaxing colours from her chart
to gild the fading year.
Paths of fallen glory
now guide the Winter’s steps,
catch the frosts which early
lie, and die beneath their tread.
I don’t think you need to apologize, Autumn is a wonderful time of year and you’ve done it justice with this beautifully worded poem.
Featheredwing.
Thank you so much featheredwing, ( I love your name by the way ) I very much appreciate your comment, Autumn offers so much in inspiration and I can’t help writing about it. 🙂 sue. X
Thank you Trevor, I’m pleased you are not adverse to so many nature poems from me. Oops, I hadn’t even thought about the alliteration of coaxes, colours and chart….Ahem moving on:-) The chart came from the shape of my small oblong window and the varying colours of green in the copse beyond as I gazed idly through. And I thought, nature will need to really coax the colours from this chart, as the trees had no desire to give up their greens. Rather random I suppose, but a paint palette hadn’t even entered my mind, it was just coaxing out… Read more »