Autumn As Love Grows Old

a poem, maybe rather traditional...

Autumn came before

I noticed; trees as dry

as a moth`s dead wing,

the darkening pulls

mist from my cold shadow;

the falsehood of sleep.

In your wide arms -

a hint of darkness and crabapples,

your eyes shuttered like a French shop.

A time for dark tea,

rain`s old song.

Carry the wreath of October,

for this is the start of

the brown and yellow cooling,

all wind and rainy.

Let me stroke your cheek

with the outside of my frost finger;

as stars chase themselves, the air full of tears.

Reviews

[00000000000000000000000..]

As the time turns so do we, Very fitting Leslie. I like your bio btw.

[Tom]

As the seasons change so do our own interactions and behaviour and splendid how you portray this in this pleasant, autumnal poem !

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A lovely poem with your usual class above. Gentle, sad, longing all wrapped up in the metaphor that could represent love or life itself. Love the moth metaphor which reminded me of the leaves in my garden as I type. Lovely!

[Brett Michael Wagner]

I absolutely love this. Beautiful work. I find fall to be a very interesting time of year.. everything dying and going away. But there's always the promise of spring. Everything is a cycle.