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Our Clear Autumn



Our perfect August
Our lambent time
The hour, month, season
Hast thou passed so
Suddenly

Nay, in time
You have naught but slept
Wake now thee love
See how it has suffered
Under your euphoric spell
Comfort creates the nest
Complacency settles in

(…poem interrupted by life)

With Love
On Love

By Janet Jarrell
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  1. AnonymousApril 19, 2009 at 11:44 AM

    On Love With Love

    My autumn never ends
    It rolls on beneath the pitter patter
    of my wandering soul

    Winter wretchedness will call
    But I wake to realisation
    And know my lost conciousness
    And the misplaced feeling, that lost
    The unending grass on my fingertips
    And the sun on my face

    ReplyDelete

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