On this first day of summer, I decided to write a poem about the first day of autumn. Don’t ask me why… I usually love summer. All the seasons, in fact. I am linking this up to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night #197, where all styles of poems welcome on this occasion.
Ardent berries she folds over
For birds to peck, hedgerows to trim.
A casual fling of hoary mantle
Is all she needs to silence doubters.
Pyres of leaves burnt in her honour,
Lawns raked neat, while woodland damp
Moves in shrubbery unnoticed.
Two mushrooms sulk in rotten greys.
The toad’s eyes wary as in the brambles
A hedgehog sinks in compost nest.
Times of plenty breed unlikely allies.
Someday you and I might still be friends.
findingtimetowrite 
I love the way this poem captures the rich hues of autumn, Marina Sofia. It’s one reason that I like autumn best, actually. And you’ve got the essence here, beautifully depicted.
Ah, I’m pleased I managed to capture the spirit of your favourite season, Margot. I can never quite make up my mind.
Lovely poem. I tend to like spring and autumn best, so this really speaks to me.
Yes, summer can get a bit samey (although never in England, where the weather changes five times a day), so autumn often appeals to me with its crisper air. And spring is full of hope rather than accomplishment, potential always more appealing than actual glory.
On the first day of the meteorological summer….thoughts of autumn.
You’ve gathered some lovey images in your poem.
I am always amazed by spider webs with dew drops, nature’s jeweled necklaces!
Aren’t they just beautiful? I remember a morning like that in France, walking my son to school, and the whole way we saw nothing but these necklaces of bedewed spider webs… Magic!
I love the line about the mushrooms !!
I love gathering mushrooms, and they always seem to be shrinking away and hiding…
The last two lines are terrific.
Thank you, a bit of wishful thinking creeping in there…
I like your personification of Autumn here, and I like your ending. Wistful.
I love this busy society of nature that you have so vividly depicted. Great poem!
There is a Romanian poet George Topirceanu who has a beautiful poem about animals chatting and scrabbling about and getting ready to nestle in autumn. I’ve only just thought about it now, but I must have subconsciously been influenced by it.
Autumn is rich with color. You’ve captured its beauty well.
And you seem to like your colours! Thank you!
So sorry, unexpected visitors last night have made me rather late in responding to your piece. Very pleasing and acutely observed writing – really enjoyed this, all the way through to your clever finish…
Not late at all – I haven’t managed to read that many poems yet myself. I blame the school holidays…
The mushrooms is the French touch. I bet your English friends would be more inclined to see toadstools in the woods 🙂 The colours and tastes in this are delicious, and there’s not a hint of sadness in it 🙂
Yay, a happy poem at last from my melancholy pen! Yes, it’s the Franco-Romanian touch of going out to gather mushrooms. I’m afraid I’m not quite sure which ones are safe to eat, which not, but I usually go with relatives who do know and we then have a delicious meal at the end of it.
I wouldn’t trust myself either. Too many things look like cêpes 🙂
Times of plenty breed unlikely allies. / Someday you and I might still be friends. Great ending for this poem!
I really like how you tied the nature going to rest (or dying) with that last sentence, friendship hibernating like the hedgehog?
I do wish we had a proper autumn but it’s mostly just more summer here. I love all the details in this with the hedgehog sinking and the toads and shrinking mushrooms…charming, Marina. And love your ending…sweet.
Love the rich colors and images of autumn, my other favorite season ~ Hope you are well~
Times of plenty breed unlikely allies.
Someday you and I might still be friend
Fairweather friends are aplenty. One may get hoodwinked by them but it is still expected that we are nice to them!
Hank
I love how you have personified Autumn here! Beautifully tender and wistful!
The images capture the nostalgia I feel when autumn sets in. It is beautiful in a solemn way. Your poem conveyed it.
“Pyres of leaves burnt …” reminds me of an eastern funeral tradition. Strong autumnal image.
Yes, spring seems light-hearted, summer a bit too extreme and teenagerish, while autumn is solemn and effortlessly beautiful.
Lovely writing a beautiful take from the eye of the observer…bkm
This is beautiful…even if you’re a season ahead 🙂
Rich and wistful! This spoke to me of my favorite season and the realm of possibilities. (PS I have chronic health issues and still catching up to the last OLN). x