Year's Yield.
Now dawn is slowly brindling the heavens
with russet striations of honey-tone
cold, painting change of September mellow
on swaying meadows of harvest bonus.
*
*
*
Now I bow to be-whiskering greenness
as autumn starts its downward chorus,
fields growing tawny with ready corn-ears
show time shoulders sything ever forward.
*
*
*
Now cuddles down rootlets double-deep
for freeze urges races for extra cover
while underneath movement curls for sleep
garden-work waits until winter is done.
*
*
*
now I shall lay down my own bent labour,
after nurturing yield will welcome rest
from summer abundance but in savouring
year's produce must start to plan for the next.
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Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: September 1st, 2017 03:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
- Users favorite of this poem: Sefrin
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Comments8
Into the new season with you Fay! It's my turn for green and growing times.
Hoping your season yields well for you Frank. Thanks muchly for the comment.
It's started out beautifully Fay - glorious blue days and warm, but about to go pear shaped, I believe. Best to you also.
Nothing like a garden to gauge the seasons for us. Enjoyed this fine write, Fay.
I love the garden - but it needs continual work to keep it in shape - current work - trimming back ivy. You can't beat a good cottage garden , Great write Fay
This is absolutely beautiful, Fay! I have much esteem for you and your work.
Love it, great write
Thank you Fay for a beautiful poem. I had a garden, flowers, and apple trees when living in Montreal.
Now, while we do have seasons, there is not much difference between them. Sometimes I miss the incredible colors of the maple trees in fall.
Beautiful language and paints an age of by gone years - lovely 😊
Ah - thank you Sue for your lovely comment - so pleased you enjoyed the read of those bygone days when work outdoors in the garden was a vital need.
Be-whiskering! That's a wonderment in itself. I'm a sucker for the peerless language in all of your works.
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