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Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.-Edgar Allan Poe

Poetry is when emotion has found its thought and thought has found words--Robert Frost

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance--Carl Sandburg

I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry--John Cage

You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you--Joseph Joubert

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. ~Dylan Thomas

joybragi84
Sep 23, 20231 min read

An Autumnal Portent: A New (Short) Poem and A Few Pictures of Fall Flowers


Well, folks, here it is with only a few days left in September and many different flowers in our yard have decided to bloom once again. Kellie took this picture of a Black Velvet Petunia last evening. I don't recall when it last bloomed, but it seemed done for the year. Obviously, it wasn't.



Both of my rosebushes decided that they wanted to bloom one more time this year. The pink bloom above is the only full blossom that this rosebush produced this year. The others never really filled out, probably too dry. My red rose bush has produced thousands of blossoms all summer. The one below is the latest blossom that filled out fully.


I suppose now that it is time for the poem. I came up with idea yesterday, slept on it, and woke up this morning with a fuller plan. It is a simple but sweet poem, I think. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!


An Autumnal Portent

In Autumn’s till,

There still is room

For a willful rose

To bloom--


Or four o’clocks

To wreath their heads

In sundry hues of whites

And reds--


But time is near

When gilding frost

Regains the icy grip

It lost—


Then, Autumn’s till

Is filled with leaves,

Drying fruit, and corn

In sheaves.

Comments

I find that I cannot exist without Poetry--without eternal poetry--half the day will not do--the whole of it--I began with a little, but habit has made me a Leviathan.-John Keats

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value.-T. S. Eliot

A man may praise and praise, but no one recollects but that which pleases.-George Gordon, Lord Byron

The great beauty of poetry is that it makes everything in every place interesting.-John Keats

Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery.-S. T. Coleridge

The purpose of rhythm, it has always seemed to me, is to prolong the moment of contemplation, the moment when we are both asleep and awake, which is the one moment of creation.-W. B. Yeats

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