Subimal Sinha-Roy Poet Free verse

The Flush of November

Designed by the creator, the seasons revolve,
the scorching heat of summer is long gone.
Outside the window open on the pale lawn,
the music of the rustling leaves mesmerize me.

As the autumn scene slowly fades away 
within the freezing fold of the northern wind,
the sky sparkles with seamless sapphire shine,
satin cloud streaks drift with contours of silver.

Thinned out thickets trap the gold of dawn, 
the hued web on them won’t last for long.
The aureate leaves have begun to fall and float
in the garden path turning into golden garland.

Bronze grass blades on the auburn meadow
glow as they’re suffused with scarlet sunrays,
that would soon disappear at winter’s call,
conveyed by the whispering wind of chill.

The pristine pearls of dew make a crown
for the sun-soaked lawn at dawn.
Its chromatic brilliance radiates
the luring luster of divine magnificence.

The touch of November’s last warm flush
I will absorb to the full, and treasure
as the gracious gift of God, a candle of hope,
to light up the despondent darkness of my winter. 

______________

November 3, 2022
Contest : November
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh

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