What a beautiful poem.I love the changing of the seasons, both the literal seasons and the seasons of life. I went swimming yesterday, her in the chilly waters of Maine, while people have been declaring summer's end back in early September. But, to us poets, we know these are arbitrary dates, and nature has it's own sense of time. There is no clear delineation in between the seasons. That's the joy of it all. Nature invites, begs us to be more mindful in all the nuances and subtleties of movement. It begs us to witness the flower before the bloom. September is now in the dance with October, and no date can or will define it's end.
Beautiful comment. I love that you went swimming in Maine in September. I remember the Maine waters being cold no matter the time of year. I sometimes swim here in October on a sunny afternoon even though morning temps are in the thirties. We will see what this year brings. Thanks for reading!
What a synchronicity... I just published a poem for today about the last rose of the season. It's a very rainy day here in Romania and I've been thinking about my family in Florida and South Carolina, and all the others affected by the storms and flooding. Wishing well for everyone on Earth ♥
Whoa I love this. I love the imagery, the engaging of the senses, the metaphors.
Thanks Rosie! 🥰
Lovely poem!!
Thank you!
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Such a lovely poem! I like how perceptive you are in your writing about seemingly small things that are actually the big things.
Thank you for the gift of your words! Such a beautiful, inspiring poem, and I needed it today. A soothing balm for my heart and soul..💗
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I love this poem and have added it to my collection of poems I want to read again and again. Thank you!
I love that! I’m so honored. Thank you Verna!
What a beautiful poem.I love the changing of the seasons, both the literal seasons and the seasons of life. I went swimming yesterday, her in the chilly waters of Maine, while people have been declaring summer's end back in early September. But, to us poets, we know these are arbitrary dates, and nature has it's own sense of time. There is no clear delineation in between the seasons. That's the joy of it all. Nature invites, begs us to be more mindful in all the nuances and subtleties of movement. It begs us to witness the flower before the bloom. September is now in the dance with October, and no date can or will define it's end.
Beautiful comment. I love that you went swimming in Maine in September. I remember the Maine waters being cold no matter the time of year. I sometimes swim here in October on a sunny afternoon even though morning temps are in the thirties. We will see what this year brings. Thanks for reading!
What a synchronicity... I just published a poem for today about the last rose of the season. It's a very rainy day here in Romania and I've been thinking about my family in Florida and South Carolina, and all the others affected by the storms and flooding. Wishing well for everyone on Earth ♥
Lovely poem Cheryl. We are having a gorgeous weekend here. I’ve been listening to goldfinches all weekend, but yes, extreme weather is scary.
Thank you! What a lovely compliment.