Metamorphosis
Day by day the world is shifting, turning
Tilt, sun now angled in the Autumn sky,
The annual miracle is under way
Earth begins its glorious transformation
First scarlet berries, ochre leaves
Claret and orange, burnt sienna vines
Thick the textures umber on the fields
Ploughed and furrowed, line by line
And all beneath a cornflower sky
Day by day the world is shifting, turning
Tilt, sun now angled in the Autumn sky,
The annual miracle is under way
Earth begins its glorious transformation
First scarlet berries, ochre leaves
Claret and orange, burnt sienna vines
Thick the textures umber on the fields
Ploughed and furrowed, line by line
And all beneath a cornflower sky
Luminescent
As if the season’s artists
Commissioned perhaps
Had drunk too deep of the gathered grape
Heady, bibulous, tumbled in the harvest trucks
And swaggered, staggered, bold brush in hand
Brash, clashing, brazen palette mixed
To dress the landscape, Summer parched
Bleached pale, in richest velvet
Royal sumptuous robes
All subtlety eschewed
To sing full-throated song
Season exuberant
Over-indulged
Filling the senses
Sating and drowsing the land
Paean of praise for perfection
Loud and proud, October hymn
As if the season’s artists
Commissioned perhaps
Had drunk too deep of the gathered grape
Heady, bibulous, tumbled in the harvest trucks
And swaggered, staggered, bold brush in hand
Brash, clashing, brazen palette mixed
To dress the landscape, Summer parched
Bleached pale, in richest velvet
Royal sumptuous robes
All subtlety eschewed
To sing full-throated song
Season exuberant
Over-indulged
Filling the senses
Sating and drowsing the land
Paean of praise for perfection
Loud and proud, October hymn
October 16th 2009, Hounoux
I can see it Sally, your magnificent view. I drove the back route from Bath tonight through Victoria Park, along the Bitton Road and like you I was filled with joy by the transformation of colour. I paused in the park and my soul felt bathed by the warmth of those beautiful autumnal shades you describe. The light was golden I noticed how long the shadows were from each hay bale I now discover in your poem the words 'angled sun'. I've been feeling like a caged animal this week in our dark, windowless office, thank goodness I had a meeting in Bath today!
ReplyDeleteHi Sally,
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully written and also forms a lovely word-sculpture. Did you mean that? The strong suggestion of both wine glass and candle holder?
Love,
Jenny
My reply. I didn't intend it, but did see it emerging, Jenny. Is interesting the shapes that emerge when you centre a poem, and this does echo both wine glass and candlestick.
Thank you Jude for your comment too. As I wrote to a friend, Sue, recently, perhaps because I've been painting and writing so much lately, when I see these extraordinarily beautiful sights I want to hymn them in some way. Just to say- ooh lovely Autumn colours, or ooh look at the Pyrennees, seems insufficient to meet the awe and wonder of it all.
ReplyDeleteBob says:'Extremely fanciful I must say. It carries you along.'
ReplyDelete