Tuesday, November 19, 2013

A Verse about Autumn

I liked poetry as a little girl (A.A. Milne book wtih green binding), and I recall first memorizing a verse in order to recite it at Grandmother's house for Thanksgiving Day. Ever since, I sprinkle poems into the margins of our school and family days. Imagine my joy at finding the perfect autumnal poem over the weekend. I was at Sally Clarkson's blog, and then read her daughter's blog, and found that she admires C.S. Lewis and all the Inklings… until I arrived at my favorite page about the author which tells the historic bits and how his life intersected and overlapped with Jack Lewis.

(By Owen Barfield)

An Autumn Bicycle-Ride

The leaves, grown rusty overhead,
Dropped on the road and made it red.
The air that coldly wrapped me round,
Stained by the glowing of the ground,
Had bathed the world in the cosy gloom
Of a great, red-carpeted, firelit room;
It filled my lungs, as I rode along,
Till they overflowed in a flood of song,
And joy grew truculent in my throat,
Uttering a pompous trombone-note;
For this elegant modern soul of mine
Was warm with old Autumn’s rich red wine.

1 comment:

Candise and Crew said...

"November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring."
- Elizabeth Coatsworth