The Winds of Autumn
The mystical maid of the seasonal change, in summer darns a
Gown of evergreen, with rose petal blossoms of bows, and leaves
Ribbons woven intertwine through thorns and beauty.
In the rush the colder winds blow at natures rare textured garments
Of elegance personified, limb by branch, fall do the delicate flowers,
Tenderly bidding the great lady a loving farewell remorse, until next
Years calling madam, they do softly whisper till then my dearest love.
Now in the white dress of the elm, a white maiden of porcelain skin thus
Stands alone, brushed by the on coming chilling breeze of autumn, decorations
Multicolored rainbow leaves create a sheaves protection of golden copper, mixed
With reds crimson detailing of perfection’s design.
The waltz of the timeless begins to play the harmonic music, so the tree
Of life it so does sway, in glories joyous dance.
Ever lightly stepping on the stage of destiny, this lady grace moves with
Her charming silhouette whom keeps in rhymes precision to the tune.
Attempting to beguile this mistress of the season, winter wishes her to yield,
So she may ware his whitest gown earlier this year.
But nay the lady will not be tempted by the icy gown of winter’s seductions,
For it is she whom decides the changing of the seasons.
It glitters in the air, shimmering with like rarest gems of the sky, enticing
The maid enchanting the women beneath the browning leaves the are blown
Away one by one unto the quickening air swirling around her.
So a tarried figure will appear, ravaged threadbare, a Grecian statues goddess,
Standing stark naked held captive beneath the winter’s lustful spell.
Surrendering the beauty yields to the beast, dressed in sorrows brilliant shifts
Of ivory, that sparkles and shines beneath the moonlights illumination.
Heavy is the burden she must bare, this now ice maiden, waiting until the life
Cycle to begin again, then a lighter a gown she’ll darn once more.
In the night the sweet music takes a harsher tune, yet she dances onwards,
Her tears turning to snow fakes white lace, thus before they have even a chance
To hit the ground, a damsel of ice and snow waiting to be rescued by the first
Kiss of spring.
In faith she puts all her trust, to end this season of death, she prays to the almighty,
Oh lord it’s lasting to long, my inner heart bleeds so with agonies longing, the heavenly
Father thus sends her a small sign, a minimal of insignificant size, the ground hog, I’m here,
For thee he says standing before her majesty, don’t give up hopes loving embrace.
Then in a lightening flash of colors array, winters chill is whisked away, melted now
Is the heavy garments tethering, and she smiles in the warmth of springs gown of
Fragrant flowers, and she the maiden of the seasons, praises the power of God on high,
Thank you my father, never again shall I forget your loving grace.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © Cherl Dunn | Year Posted 2014
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