The Final Blast

The Final Blast

 

A gun salute reverberated through the trees

as unprecedented temperatures soared

With birds and wild life cowering for shade

The tsunami of summer had peaked

an audible sigh whispered amongst the branches

All remained as before except for an air of expectancy

Green leaves retained their lustre

hedgerows verdant with a harvest of fruit

A silent rubicon had been crossed

unannounced as a subdued witness

All could now be safely gathered in

days of toil under a latent canopy of a summer´s sun

The sunrise, a bleary light between the crevices of nature´s foliage

All would soon be tainted by the shades of autumn

yellow leaves transforming into crisps of deadened brown

Not yet evident but as close as it could be

so as not to intrude on these final days

which bask in the resonance of the final blast

◄ He Stepped Inside

Needless Burdens ►

Comments

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keith jeffries

Tue 3rd Sep 2019 18:18

Don and Ray,

Thank you for your comments as they are much appreciated.
Keith

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raypool

Tue 3rd Sep 2019 18:02

Hi Keith. I especially like the first line - the sort of invasion of humans in the overall time frame you describe so well. I could almost imagine a war poem coming because of that. A nicely turned sentiment that we can all respond to in our own way. It is hard these days to get away from that distant sound of traffic, but this gives us that impression!

Ray

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Don Matthews

Tue 3rd Sep 2019 09:26

Ah Keith. I lived in England for 6 years. One thing I dearly miss is the local village. And village green. We just don't have them here.

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keith jeffries

Tue 3rd Sep 2019 08:58

Devon, Leon and Kevin,

Thank you for your kind comments. We now languish in the final days of summer with Harvest Festivals not far away. I shall have to visit local villages in search of homemade marmalade.

Keith

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kJ Walker

Tue 3rd Sep 2019 06:47

You have a lovely way with words, which makes the passing of summer seem almost bearable

Cheers Kevin

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LEON STOLGARD

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 14:53

Capturing sight of those beautifully burnished and bloodied tree fleeces makes Autumns lead-up to Winter that much easier, as does this lovely poem Keith. Cheers mate.

LS.

Devon Brock

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 12:30

Keith,

Lovely send off to summer. The last five lines, the sense of Autumn consciously holding back, "as not to intrude", is an image that will stay in my mind for quite some time.

Thanks,

D

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