Autumn Bliss
The door to Autumn has opened wide. Colors greet us on hills and valleys, on lawns and in the park, beside the riverbank and everywhere our eye is turned.
The Soothing Serenade of Autumn
Summer’s heat has lost its grip, the sweltering days of humidity have melted into the crisp, cool air of autumn, there's a palpable shift in the atmosphere. Light is trimmed at the head and heel of each day, little by little darkness covers the earth earlier each evening. The season ushers in a sense of renewal and tranquility. The vibrant hues of red, orange, and yellow leaves paint a picturesque landscape, transforming even the most mundane surroundings into a work of art. It is as though God chose to showcase His finest artwork just before the dull grays of winter appear on bare trees.
A beautiful oak dressed in an autumn orange as the afternoon sun trickles down through the tree.
One of the most delightful aspects of autumn is the opportunity to indulge in seasonal activities. From decorating with mums, pumpkins and corn stalks to hayrides and bon-fires there's a myriad of ways to celebrate the season.
Autumn is also a time of harvest, reflection and gratitude. As the year begins to wind down, it's a perfect moment to pause and appreciate the beauty around us and to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.
The poem below was written on a day late in October as I basked in the rays of the afternoon. As is often the case in October, the sun was abundant beating against a bright blue sky, the air pleasant and bursting with vivid colors. The royal Monarchs spread their shawls on my lantanas. The afternoon cradled me in the warmth and bliss of the season…I wanted to capture it in a bottle and release it again on a cold, dismal day of winter. Take a deep breath and let your mind travel to the place of Autmn Bliss. Find more poetry at marlenetidwell.com/poetry.
Autumn Bliss
Crowned in color, vales and hills
Whisk me away into autumn bliss.
Butterflies dance in afternoon’s
Golden light. Petals are combed for sweet
Nectar for the journey ahead. Calls of
Condolences ring through thinning trees
And tap my ear at the final farewell to fall.
From blossom to blossom they putter drinking
Their fill. Distant shores far from these
Painted hills wait for their return. Splashed
With orange, white, yellow and black,
Shawls bend and bow around their backs,
Crafted in perfected fashion like a fine
Garment that ages well with time.
Drenched in October glow, the Ironweed
Throws its royal remnants to the wind.
They flounder with falling friends that fling
Their arms and tumble to tombs of decay
To give earth their gift again. Too soon
The lamp grows pale. Winter peeks
Around the corner, and hurls its chilling
Winds and diminished days, and drapes
Autumn’s bliss in the falling night.