Sunday, November 20, 2011

November sonnet...


Sacred Earth


I confess I am quite particular
About my trees above all, and yes, books.
This season when brooding lenticular
Clouds loom above and the frenetic looks

Of shoppers tell me that winter solstice
Is nigh and the sun hides mostly from our gaze
I yearn for a Southern Hemispheric poultice
Exulting upside down in summer days.

The last few colchicums are spiting frost.
The first few snowdrops are pretending spring
Is not so far away, but I am lost
In winter’s chill embrace. Oh! hear her sing!

Shear clouds, sere fields, sad heart (for what it’s worth)
A clarity of light on sacred earth.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

3 comments:

  1. beautifully expressed sentiments of this stage of the year
    Gracias.

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  2. Very nice, you are a poet... I enjoy such garden poetry, it's like reading a short Robin Magowan piece, artistic and inspiring, I'm not able to compose such poetic things. Thanks. But I differ with "I am lost in winter’s chill embrace"... as the winter months give some resprite from the clamoring demands of the garden, its's a necessary break from our obsessions. I'm liking winter more and more these days.

    Antennaria@charter.net

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  3. Thank you, Dizy and Mark both: you are very indulgent! The muse always nudges me in November when the garden lets up a bit. I have a love hate affair with winter. I find it strange we dress up more when the landscape sheds it's clothes (there is something naked about winter, and I do admire slender, naked charms!) But I also have inklings of darker things in winter that touch buttons.

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