November
By Ray Schaufeld
- 1730 reads
The clocks turn back, soon dusk will start at four
And guttered pumpkins bulk the wheelie bins.
Geese fly from
And summer clothes are packed away once more.
Leaves swither, rain pounds roofs, flowers die away
And dismal poppies memorial pains display,
And flouncy sugary Christmas fails to raise
My waterlogged spirits - for well I know that days
Of squall, fog, drizzle, cold and sheeting rain
Will beat me down again, again, again
Till Easter at least, yet fireworks rip the sky,
Predictable winter woes may well prove false.
We can make warmth from friendship and from fire
From curry and soup -
And now November's waltz
Of frost I dance. Your flaws I must forgive.
You are my birthday month. Inside you I shall live.
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Comments
A visual treat and the dull
A visual treat and the dull heart comes through in its pace
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Birthday greetings, probably
Birthday greetings, probably belated!
I liked the picture of 'swithering leaves', and empathised with 'waterlogged spirits'.
Friendship and soup are better warmers than the cheap, thin, fragile glitter that might be nice if not so overdone. Drowns out the reminder of the real help and love we can have from the coming of Eternal Life Light. Rhiannon
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I do like the glitter too, in
I do like the glitter too, in the dark December days. But sometimes the just buoy up so much and suddenly disappear! Rh
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