Drawing in....

Drawing in....

 

Gradually, imperceptibly the nights draw in

they encroach with the chill of winter to foretell

As a blanket they cover a dormant landscape

there is no retreat, no turning back, the die is cast

the rubicon is crossed

Until the Feast of Epiphany we sink into a darkened world

only beyond is the light of a resurrected dawn

A time to slumber, dream, to drink mulled wine

wrapped in heavy attire from head to toe

Scarves with gloves do make their debut

as summer´s wear retreats into closets of despair

A long night as a tunnel buried beneath the earth

we journey with trepidation clasping onto hope

Will we live to see Spring´s dawn?

the warmth of another summer´s morn

Whatever be in store they will reappear

as pre ordained by he who fixed these seasons

But now we submit to the shadows of gloom

occasionally between the clouds do we see the moon

◄ The Final Act

Do me in.... ►

Comments

jennifer Malden

Tue 1st Oct 2019 19:57

Agree with the atmosphere being really present in the poem. I like autumn as well, but have noticed most people don't. In Italy the summers are often uncomfortably hot, so autumn is a relief, sunny and warm but heat not a problem. There are also chestnuts, the olives, porcini mushrooms, and new wine and olvie oil as consolation!
Jennifer

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keith jeffries

Mon 23rd Sep 2019 15:11

Candice, Dorothy, Julia and Graham,

Thank you for your kind comments on this poem. They are much appreciated. Graham, I also find great beauty in the colours of autumn but Spring is my month. I find autumn a little foreboding.

Thank you all
Keith

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Graham Sherwood

Sun 22nd Sep 2019 22:11

Be glad of every day Keith.

I like the seasons (being an autumn baby, I love this time the best) and the change to winter clothes, if they still fit!

The atmosphere you capture here is palpable.

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