When the artist's magical light seems to last all day
.....a warm glow slanting with a chill at its heart
when rowan berries shine like jewels
.....and the robin sings its sadder song
when the gold of August fields fades away to brown
.....and green becomes yellow above our heads
then swallows and martins chatter and flutter
gather in crowds on telephone wires
and wait for the northerly wind to blow them
south - its time to go, they know
Time to Leave for Totally Optional Prompts
Beauutiful poem and very true, well done!
ReplyDeletewonderful evocation of the season
ReplyDeleteMy first thought was, it's not fall yet. Then I remembered you're at a slightly different latitude. Fall hasn't arrived on Planet Georgia yet, but I think I'll be putting the light lining in my motorcycle jacket in a couple of weeks.
ReplyDeleteLike the imagery of the colours changing as Autumn approaches. Wish I had rowan berries left but as soon as mine were red they were eaten by lovely young brownish starlings who swung on the branches and gorged themselves. Not a single berry left.
ReplyDeleteThat really does have such a feel of the season, beautiful.
ReplyDeleteit is always amazing to me how they know. its true its as if they all huddle in rows waiting for that gust to give the a-go. our leaves are turning yellow here. it has been around 48 degrees on average. time for a new down comforter i think. lovely poem; you did a beautiful job of expressing the heart of this change
ReplyDeleteanother great transition poem...i like the rythm is swifting nostalgic...
ReplyDeleteReally like this. The first two lines really capture this time of year for me. We're at that stage too-even when the sun's out there is a nip to the air. And that "magical light," is why this is my favorite time of year.
ReplyDeleteoh, i so love this juliet! truly. you captured the bittersweet transition from summer to fall. plus, you know i love the image of birds on telephone wires.
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful images you paint. There are ginkos outside my office and in the Fall they drop their leaves (green becomes yellow above our heads) a lays down the most wonderful buttery carpet.
ReplyDeleteIt is that time again as your poem vividly portrays. A sad but necessary cycle of nature and one of my favorites when I finally adjust to it. Beautiful write Juliet.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful tribute to the changing of the seasons! A soft and musical praise of changing beauties!
ReplyDeletelovely migratory lines. :)
ReplyDeleteI love watching them before they migrate. An excellent sign of a collective mind.
ReplyDeletebeautiful!
ReplyDeleteafter reading your poems lately, i ended up remebering;
ReplyDeleteA venit toamna acopera-mi inima cu ceva/ cu umbra unui copac saumai bine cu umbra ta' -N. Stanescu "Emotie de toamna"
This is just so beautiful. I love the line "when rowan berries shine like jewels". Nature has it's own "Crown Jewels"
ReplyDeleteLove your site.
love-Melanie-bd
I love the sounds in this poem and I especially enjoyed your last line break. Great job! :)
ReplyDeleteOne can hear the sounds while reading this!
ReplyDeleteblown away
Juliet, thanks for your kind comments about my flash fiction site.
ReplyDeleteI just loved this poem. There is a sadness about ending which your poem captures beautifully.
I loved the rhythm through the repeated use of 'when' - truly musical.
In 'its time to go, they know' the rhyme achieves closure so naturally.
Great stuff! I've added an RSS feed of your posts on my flash fiction site so others can discover your work at
http://www.onlineflashfiction.com/
:-)
Very nice - they do know, don't they!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the poem. Conjures the scenes admirably. There is not enough nature poetry around theses days. Great stuff.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. I'm looking forward to autumn!
ReplyDeleteYeah, I like the way that you know that the birds know when its time to go!
ReplyDeletefills the mouth! wonderful!
ReplyDeleteNO NO NO NO ... we have almost not even had summer yet!
ReplyDeleteBut yes, the bird flocks are beginning to form here as well ...
Autumn, graphically illustrated; and the instincts of the birds from a humans eye view.
ReplyDeleteyes, beautiful verse
ReplyDeleteTime to Leave in my part of the world, too, robins are eating red curants.
ReplyDeleteYou have such a knack for bringing a tear to my eye. I always mourn when the birds leave, but it is so joyful when they return!
ReplyDeleteSuch a lovely response to the prompt.
ReplyDelete