#the autumn sonnets

[soracities]

May Sarton, from "The Autumn Sonnets", Collected Poems: 1930-1993 [ID'd]

[apoemaday]

Autumn Sonnets: II

by May Sarton

If I can let you go as trees let go Their leaves, so casually, one by one; If I can come to know what they do know, That fall is the release, the consummation, Then fear of time and the uncertain fruit Would not distemper the great lucid skies This strangest autumn, mellow and acute. If I can take the dark with open eyes And call it seasonal, not harsh or strange (for love itself may need a time of sleep) And, treelike, stand unmoved before the change, Lose what I lose to keep what I can keep, The strong root still alive under the snow, Love will endure -- if I can let you go.

[env0writes]

Umber Embers Vol.3, 9.3.24 “Wake Up Gamble”

Somebody will love you for the shape you are in Even if it not the shape you labor yourself into And on that fateful day, come morn, come aft, come eve For a glimmer of a glimpse of a glean you will see through their view In night where you find your crown of motivation Clatters to the ground come morning’s bed to make Where kingdoms rose and fell in soft-laid head dreams Continue to rest when sunlight breaks shuttered windows and eyes to wake In the dreams you find the warm summer glow No adult could ever put into words the simplicity Only a stumbling child, can capture that concept of love Our words grown laden, chained, and too verbose to truly see There will be a lover, just out of sight of how you imagined When the morning light, a halo about your mind Pierces every ambition imaginable, flittering attention busy-bee Follow that ambling fly, buzz-buzz-buzz and know inside Love is a changing thing, from night to day Not to be held like air, for only so long, it must be released in order to say “I love you” Risking it all it all for you to say what they will not return

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!  

[0bsessiv3s0ul]

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee—and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth sings hymns at heaven's gate;

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

[mournfulroses]

Mahmoud Darwish, tr. by Fady Joudah, from The Butterfly's Burden; "Sonnet V,"

[wordsandstrangeways]

Drawtober 31: Winter

Autumn’s crown is sun-gold and orange-gourd,

resting on her bounty fat and full.

Resplendent reclining on her hoard,

She laughs while feasting wrapped in cloak of wool.

For autumn’s end is cold about to come,

Though autumn loves the blessing of her kin,

And bounty gives to such a barren sum

When winter’s frosted fingers brush her skin.

For winter’s cold embrace invites the spring,

And cold and dark a certain beauty hath.

The cycle spins a golden silver ring,

Turning, still, the never ending path.

And winter, loving autumn in return,

Now frosts the golden world in icy fern.

[poetrythreesixfive]

Winter Pond

The pond is full, the water deep and still,

I filled it from the hose the other day,

but when the mercury plummets, and it will,

the winter ice will fill the pool, and stay;

the waterfall will ebb into a creep

as autumn daylight slowly starts to drain,

and then the ice will thicken, clear and deep,

and only one small trickle will remain;

the frogs are burrowed dark beneath the ground,

the fish are sleeping still within their cave,

the dragonflies are nowhere to be found,

and all the blooms have shriveled to their grave;

as winter comes, a pond of ice and stone

takes on a different beauty all its own.

-GeorgeFilip

[silenceintostone]

[as-spring-came-in-october]

I know exactly which song needs to go up on my story...

It was just last year when I stalked Spotify to find that exact October theme, and look, it's October again...

Autumn leaves celebrate their adulthood.

'We fell in love in October' plays in the background and I feel shivers running down my spine. Arrival of winters? Failing in love?

My "character development arc" resets and I rush to Starbucks for the pumpkin spiced latte, waiting for the most insane lore to take place.

The wind tastes rust. Eerie spirits ask for "5 more minutes of sleep" before they begin to prepare for Halloween.

Green lanterns get out of stock at Walmart stores.

Soft blankets replace the longing for warmth and tiny marshmallows learn how to float on hot chocolates.

Wardrobes paint themselves in shades of brown. Floral dresses are kept in bedboxes like spring flowers pressed in diaries.

Summer flings turn into winter romances.

Snowman plays in the background as I waltz under yellow light, the taste of strawberries covered in Nutella linger in my mouth, as he cooks pancakes for dinner, his face kissed in flour.

Sonnet 73 takes over Sonnet 18.

The fallen leaves echo "To Autumn", by John Keats.

Poets turn gloomy and the night sky turns hopefull.

[words-and-coffee]

in us autumn never scorched. And in our still homeland love rose and grew with the rights of dew.

Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets: XXVIII

[themesoflove]

[soracities]

May Sarton, from "The Autumn Sonnets", Collected Poems: 1930-1993 [ID'd]

[env0writes]

Umber Embers Vol. 3, 9.1.24 “Autumn First"

September arrived plain With little to no acclaim Limping along; lame Lost even the bearing of its name Sunday the sabbath Most hastily grabbeth A month full of lists too mammoth To let languish in drawn bath Please stay here Linger near Autumn’s first taste is fear For the dark huddles ‘round most severe How comely comes the night In cool and chided lack of light

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!  

[batgovernor]

Sonnet: Janice D. Soderling, 'September Morning'

Across a sun-lit pane, deft, unconcerned, a spider struts the steps of an old dance, a set design, in no part happenstance: and I again to sun and rune returned. Stumbling along, half blind, half deaf, half-learned, in yet a day of quarrel and circumstance, I turn from cluttered web to view askance night’s daughter, she who never can be turned. Sleek spider dame with one plan, to consume, to suck…

[culturevulturette]

SONNET 73

That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

 William Shakespeare

[desdasiwrites]

– William Shakespeare, Sonnet 73.