Mid-day darkness crept across the browning meadow
Autumn sought a place to practice her ritual perfidy,
Menacing as an evil spirit she hovered like a shadow
Transformed the green, plucked blooms ruthlessly.
Strewing the lush foliage laid barren along the path
As though a windstorm had tossed it with no regard
Spoiling the last of summer’s blooms in the aftermath,
Leaving the landscape ‘til spring battered and scarred.
I scanned the field from the fencerow by the avenue
Which separates the sanctuary from my backyard,
Already dreaming of a time when all will begin anew
But first I know the place will see winter cold and hard.
Nature’s way, of course, I’ve witnessed many seasons
Times to blossom in profusion; other times to perish,
Cycles of seasonal changes, who can know the reasons.
Written September 3, 2022
Categories:
fencerow, change, nature, seasons,
Form: Rhyme
An August sun shines on the meadow,
The goldenrod voicing their approval,
Waving their tall flags of flaxen yellow
Always profuse in bloom, never frugal,
Or shy in making themselves known
Among the late summer appearances
My lush verdant meadow is overgrown,
Paths having no unfettered clearances.
Dying vines now entangle the fencerow
Someone has sprayed a deadly herbicide
Not an unreasonable action, although,
Greatly affecting plants on the other side
Especially blooming milkweed and aster
Each provided nectar for the honeybee
Their roots spared, they return fast, ere
Hints of autumn tell the thrasher to flee.
August bears down hard on succulents
Browning for lack of a moisture to hoard.
How these strangers leapt the fence
And settled here strikes a curious chord.
Soon the vegetation will wilt and decay
Mother Nature says their time has come
Frost and bitter cold will have their say
I will yearn to walk on a clear spring day.
Written August 18, 2022
Categories:
fencerow, august, environment, flower, places,
Form: Rhyme
I ambled along near fencerow newly built
Running my fingers through the tall daylilies,
Each trumpeting bloom at the top of a lanky stilt
Bringing back memories of mountain hillbillies.
My father once said the daylilies were intrusive
But I thought them lovely mid-summer blooms,
It was clear to me they never sought to be elusive
Showing giant reddish-orange and yellow plumes.
Very little tending the daylilies need to flourish
They'll make an appearance yearly in proliferation,
Not requiring an especially rich soul to nourish
Their profusion caused my father exasperation.
I don’t know why he despised them so, since
They certainly did no harm while volunteering
I have always thought them lovely near a fence
As I amble, they sway and wave like cheering.
Written July 15, 2022
Categories:
fencerow, flower, summer,
Form: Quatrain
I walked through the meadow this afternoon
To enjoy this spring’s bloodroot growing wild
Short-lived blooms soon disappearing among
The taller stalks of milkweed and columbine.
I masked today because the pollen count is high
[My spring bout with allergies is almost over]
So, I dare not tempt Mother Nature’s malady.
I see the red-winged blackbirds have returned,
Nesting in the old fencerow along the roadside
Where domestic daisies and asters proliferate,
And I suspect a nest of bunnies could be found.
Until worn down, the path is almost overgrown
Brownish dead stalks from the early spring snow
And I waded through a patch of beggar’s lice
Which I carried until I returned to my backyard
Then picking them off one by one, I fretted,
But my first trip of the year was so rewarding
And I could hardly wait to tell you what I saw.
Written May 9, 2022
for "Brian Strand's Premier Poetry Contest"
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All Poetry - June 6, 2022
Categories:
fencerow, adventure, bird, flower, nature,
Form: Free verse