Autumnal Thoughts for M'lady Ernestine.

The days grow short and shorter still
The evenings hold a hint of chill.
The sun goes early to his rest.
The time approaches I love best
When natures shows her artistry
abandoning propriety
To suit her autumn madcap mood.
She is determined that she should
Use every shade in her palette.
Create a sight you can’t forget
and she succeeds so easily.
By making certain every tree.
Will don their autumn finery
Their gaudy colours pleasing me

Wednesday,27 October 2010
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The Colours of Autumn

Coppery red leaves,
Falling from trees,
That soon will be bare.

The colours of Autumn.

Piles of reddish brown,
Lying scattered on the ground.
And a chill in the air.

The colours of Autumn.

The sky is grey,
Shorter days,
And darker nights.

The colours of Autumn.

Evenings bathed in gold,
Thunderclouds so bold,
And weaker sun, not as bright.

The colours of Autumn.

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Simplistic Style. for J.T.Early

Winter is waiting in the wings
Until his turn to take the stage.
Amused at autumns posturings
He will create a pristine page

On which to paint in black and white
An austere winter beauty show.
Pictures dependent on the light
reflecting from the fallen snow.

He has a limited palette
Displaying his flawless technique.
Paints pictures you will not forget
because each picture is unique.

The gaudy autumn colours go
Replaced by winters coat of snow.

11/10/2009
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Natural Progression for M'lady Catrina

Natural Progression.

A amidst the green a flash of red
and here and there a golden tone
The summertime has swiftly sped.
Now Autumn comes to reign alone.
Her reign is short but beautiful
The trees adopt their party dress
the brilliant colours wonderful.
Well calculated to impress.
Soon wintry gales will strip the trees
denude them of their finery.
Until this happens they will please
students of nature’s artistry.
And then revert to black and white
to some photographers delight.

21/09/2009
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Duet

Beauty in Black and white

The trees are now of leaves bereft.
Stark silhouettes against the sky
but here and there an odd leaf’s left.
Clinging to life determinedly.
But in due course they to will fall
They’ve played their part it’s time to go
They have no chance, no chance at all
to defy the winds which blow
The wintry blasts will tear them loose,
just as they are supposed to do
Although they try they can't refuse
Nature decrees it must be so
There is no place for leaves of green.
When winter dominates the scene

Simplicity

Rich autumn colours will soon fade.
Though for a while the beauty show
with brilliant colours on parade.
Will too soon be forced to go.
When winter king resumes his rule.
It is his turn he has the right,
the autumn winds his favourite tool
to change the world to black and white
His artistry is monochrome
but has a beauty all its own.
Which some of us find most welcome.
The autumn colours overdone.
Content with the austerity
of winters simpler artistr


16-Oct-08

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Evening routine.

A maple tree is glowing red.
Highlighted by the setting sun
A fiery glow that quickly spread
to tint the clouds now day is done.
When day is done before the night
comes to erase the pastel hues.
Which fill the western skies with light.
I watch and glory at the sight.
I watch until the stars appear
as spots of light against the blue.
It is a ritual, I fear
I have become accustomed to.
Then I will take my homeward way.
A peaceful ending to my day.

Wednesday,27 October 2010
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Forward planning

Bright autumn leaves like butterflies
are gaily dancing in the breeze.
Until they fall; no more to rise
and coat the ground beneath the trees.
In carpets of rich autumn hues
Which will soon fade to neutral brown.
The time has come for trees to lose
their leaves and cast them down.
As they prepare for winters rule.
Returning to the earth again
their useless leaves to use a fuel.
Which when spring comes will help sustain.
The sudden burst of energy
that is required by every tree.

Saturday,11 September 2010
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Flutter byes for M ladyChitra

The autumn leaves fall from the trees.
Twirling and dancing in the breeze.
Like ghosts of summer butterflies
although they don’t deceive my eyes.
My poets mind says otherwise.
Transmogrifies them easily,
assisted by their autumn guise.
Into bright coloured butterflies.
Like butterflies they dance and play
but they will fall eventually.
Down to the ground and rot away
And form a mulch to feed each tree.
On which trees live as they should do.
Though for a little while they flew.

16-Oct-08

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Austere purity.

It’s autumn now; the trees discard
their final leaves in readiness
When winter comes times will be hard.
Their leafless branches suffer less.
From winter gales and hold less snow
Than they would in summer dress.
The time has come to let leaves go
Although bare branches don’t impress.
Mere silhouettes against the sky.
A tracery of black and white
They can still catch a poet’s eye
and may inspire him to write.
In praise of the simplicity
of winters cold sterility.

Friday,15 October 2010
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Light and Movement

The sky is blue bright sunshine shows
the changing colours of the trees.
Which ripple in the playful breeze
A changing tapestry that glows
with autumn colours which compose,
contrasts and subtle harmonies
An artist palette sure to please
the eye of anyone who knows.
That they are free to look their fill
on Mother Natures artistry.
A still life which is never still
but always moving fluidly.
Obedient to the artists will
eschewing mediocrity.

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The rocks abide

The rocks abide.

The wind swept crags command a view.
Across the rolling countryside
Where there is always something new.
Though seasons change the rocks abide.

The greening of the land in spring
Which turns to gold beneath the sun.
Then autumn changes everything.
A colour to suit everyone.

From this vantage point I see
The spring the summer and the fall.
Then winter with its stark beauty
My favourite season of them all.

An empty world of pristine white.
All blemishes hid from my sight.

Monday,10 October 2011
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Encyclical

The spring will come and summer too
Just as they are intended to.
Then autumn will take summers place
This is a cycle not a race.

Then in due course winter will reign
When winter ends spring comes again.
The earth will waken from its rest
Each season does what it does best.

Spring is the time to plough and sow
The summer provides time to grow
when crops are slowly ripening
In autumn comes the harvesting.

When all the crops are gathered in
and safely stored in box and bin.
Nature decrees a time of rest
an age old plan that’s stood times test.

Each season has its part to play
It reigns a while then clears the way
For the next one to follow on
They’ve played their part time to be gone.

31-Jan-09

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Dare to smile for M lady Tara

December’s dull and dreary days.
Seem to pass by much more slowly
than summer days: We have to face
this is the sad reality.
The shorter days do not move fast.
Although we would expect them to
Instead they seem intent to last
so much longer than they ought to.
Although we know it is not true.
Time seems to slow its even pace
to us it really seems to do.
The way we feel shows on each face.
Nobody sports a cheerful grin
as if to smile would be a sin

5-Dec-08 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

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Am I a Heretic?

Abide with me fast falls the eventide.
My boredom deepens momentarily.
There must be more to life than the T.V
I sometimes watch but I choose carefully

The darkness deepens lord abide with me.
Boredom remains the ancient enemy
I have to choose so therefore I decide
Only to watch what I want to see.

When other helpers fail and comforts flee.
Then and only then do I watch T.V.
Most programmes offered don’t appeal to me
I can go without watching very easily.

Help of the helpless oh abide with me.
Books are my salvation as they ought to be
I have a collection of fine poetry
I can choose what suits my mood easily.

Wednesday,31 March 2010
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Transfiguration.

Transfiguration?

The sunset was spectacular
Transforming the familiar
Sights which I am accustomed to
Into a very different view.
The slated roofs no longer grey
But changing with the interplay
Reflected colours from the sky
which blend and merge then multiply.
Creating a surreal beauty
Which hides the stark reality
That I am faced with every day.
Monotony in black and grey.
I watch until the colours fade.
Reluctantly I draw the shade.

Wednesday,18 January 2012
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Where do they go? for M'lady Denise

A sky layered in lavender,
old rose and streaks of gold that glow.
Against approaching indigo
as night accepts day’s surrender.
The sun descends into the sea.
His task complete it’s time to rest.
As night achieves a slow conquest.
The colours will fade gradually
Tomorrow morning with the dawn
The pastel colours will return,
The Sun will rise to take his turn.
As in the east new day's born.
Where do the pretty colours go?
when darkness reigns. I do not know.

Saturday,03 July 2010
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Natural Artistry

Natural artistry

The onion domes against the sky
by morning light blush rosily.
Before the sun has risen high.
Resplendent in his majesty.

He paints the domes with gleaming gold.
Without finesse but lavishly.
His whole approach is overbold.
I prefer delicacy..

The pastel shades that I could see
before the blazing sun applied
his crude form of artistry
and hid the beauty from my eyes.

With coats of gold he misapplied,
that he believes mistakenly.
Will be pleasing to the eyes
of the vast majority.

Who only value opulence.
I could be wrong he may be right.
But I prefer the evidence
which is provided by my eyes.

Te golden glow the sun supplies
to onion domes is transient.
Although pleasing to most men’s eyes,
an artists eyes are different.

I keep my vigil faithfully
though I confess impatiently.
Tomorrow morning I shall see.
The onion domes bathed in beauty.

Before the sun can brutalise
with crass insensitivity.
The pastel colours dawn applies
to onion domes against the skies.

Thursday,27 May 2010 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

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Outstandingly average.

Outstandingly average.

I’m extraordinarily
ordinary. My only claim
to fame is my normality
I’ll never be a household name.
Nor do I think I’d want to be.
A bit player in life’s game
I do not court publicity
I ask for neither praise nor blame.
I’ll settle for obscurity.
I have no goal for which I aim.
I am content to simply
be a spectator of life’s game.
Express my views in poetry
To no effect quite probably.

Wednesday,13 October 2010
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Unbroken cycle. for M lady Ernestine

Englyn Prost Dalgron.

Seasons come and seasons go.
Summer sun or winter snow.
That is all we need to know.

Winter is replaced by spring.
Summer ripens everything.
Autumn will the harvest bring.

When the harvests gathered in
Safely stored in box and bin
Then the winter will begin.

Nature brooks no argument.
She carries out her intent.
With or without our consent.

Spring, Summer and Autumn too.
Each has its own job to do.
Perfectly planned in my view.

Monday,11 January 2010
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The Colours Of Autumn

When shades of brown do mingle
With green upon the tree,
The work of G-d's creation
Is there for all to see.

The greens, reds, yellows and browns of Autumn
Are colours upon the trees,
But the colourful leaves are a-changing
When dropping on areas previously clean.

HIS season of Autumn is beautiful
With colours magnificent to view,
The Artist's palette of colours
Each year is displayed anew.

Copyright © Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 17 October 2003

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Fleeting Impressions.

Fleeting Impressions.

Soft silver moonbeams passing through.
A stained glass window in the night.
Are guaranteed to turn into
An abstract picture to delight.
Those who can appreciate.
A different form of artistry
Which never becomes out of date.
But remains contemporary.
The way the colours merge and blend
The interplay of light and shade
The constant changes will not end.
Until the sun announces a new day
When daylight breaks the moonlight goes
Back where it came from I suppose.

Tuesday,29 November 2011
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