Golden light appears in tier after tier
As if Mother Nature were on a spree
Fall's magical splendor each passing year
Transforming the colors of every tree
Colors she chooses are all warmer hues
Flaxen yellow, marmalades and pure reds
Old russet and bright chartreuse to confuse
Over dark forest floors boldly she spreads
Is it winter coming she would deter?
His icy breath blusters as winds blow cold
As in years before — Autumn must demur
Silently wearing her golden blindfold
Like drifting leaves that fall by the roadway
We'll return to life some wonderful day
Now I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
You can keep your marmalades
Jams and your various spreads
Just give me a bottle of HP sauce
Cos I’d rather have that instead
Not served in a plastic bottle cos
At times they can suddenly spurt
And before you really know it
You have sauce all over your shirt.
No, served from a glass bottle
It flows in a steady stream
That mixes with your hot butter
To provide a culinary dream.
You can keep your haute cuisine
Because what I enjoy the most
Is lashings of hot butter mixed with
The brown sauce on me toast
They looked at me in horror
Breakfasting at this posh caff
And one of them had cheek
To just stand there and laugh
And then to make doubly sure
Me and me habits weren’t seen
They went and put me table
Behind a large folding screen
I find it rather irksome that
The breakfast for which I lust
Is regarded by so many as a
Habit of loathsome disgust.
No, I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
Autumn’s story is full of rustic shades
that echo deep from every vale and hill
of splendor and of forest colonnades,
as one by one leaves float and spin and spill
in frosted shadows and in evening’s chill
Dogwoods change,in carmine escapades,
to celebrate old summer’s standing still
Scarlet leaves and shades of marmalades
Shiraz, Claret and Burgundy distill
bright tones of nature for the soul to swill.
Amber, apricot and goldenrod brigades
capturing our gaze and hearts to thrill
Piles of forest treasures spilling in cascades
with dappled browns’ and caramel’s goodwill,
All opulence of Autumn to fulfill
Autumnal English Quintain Contest
Francine Robert’s.
First Place.
Title for contest was Quintessential Autumn
A Strand 1061
First Place
Published in PS It’s Poetry Available on Amazon.
Our countryside road was
Festooned with orange heaps
Escorting us to be the grand orange fair
The gypsy dancers in orange flares
Jingled tambourines with orange ribbons
The bloated sun like an optimised orange
Spread its golden tissued canopy
Lighting up the already lit hearts
I let the frozen orange bar ice stick
Drip on my parched lips
Tasting of the rich orange juice
The mandarin jams and marmalades
Tasted of the love of rich harvested homes
The seasonal fair trebled my fair mood
As I stocked the orange flavoured
Cakes and soufflés for the arrival
Of my children for their spring holidays
With a fluffed heart I feasted on the bucketed orange blossoms
Brandishing the citrine air plumaged with orange balloons
( Posted On March 5, 2016 )
July 2, 2016
For Broken Wings
Contest- Any Poem You Ever Wrote NOT For A Contest
Caressing her marmalades delicious derriere
As if it's beauty were that her genies bottle ?
Three wishes a bouquet in colourful candles..
She licking dreams to quench, her rose tower.
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