Autumn’s last hurrah – a poetic tribute

Autumn is a favorite season for many people – it certainly is for me. Many clear and sunny days, a sharpness in the air, beautiful trees, the final bounty from our gardens. Then there is Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday. As November winds down, autumn makes its transition to winter. The frosts kill growing things and the grass, trees and bushes become brown and dead. Finally, we may be “blessed” by the first snow. In a land where we celebrate the four seasons, that is a necessary part of life’s cycle.

Autumn Movement by Carl Sandburg

I CRIED over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Days On the Farm (excerpt) by Jessie Ziegle

The garden is dying, all weedy and brown
Dotted with pumpkins and squash on the ground.
The birds on the wind are honking goodbye;
I watch them in silence and heave a big sigh,
To mourn for the passing of summer’s last cry.
God gave us this beauty, for soon we will know
The grimness of winter and new fallen snow.

Since it is a inevitable part of living in the north country, we might as well celebrate it!

Autumn Song – Poem by Katherine Mansfield

Now’s the time when children’s noses
All become as red as roses
And the colour of their faces
Makes me think of orchard places
Where the juicy apples grow,
And tomatoes in a row.

And to-day the hardened sinner
Never could be late for dinner,
But will jump up to the table
Just as soon as he is able,
Ask for three times hot roast mutton–
Oh! the shocking little glutton.

Come then, find your ball and racket,
Pop into your winter jacket,
With the lovely bear-skin lining.
While the sun is brightly shining,
Let us run and play together
And just love the autumn weather.

And, finally, Thanksgiving, when we get together with family and friends, and cook and eat as much as is humanly possible!

Thanksgiving by Edgar Albert Guest

Gettin’ together to smile an’ rejoice,
An’ eatin’ an’ laughin’ with folks of your choice;
An’ kissin’ the girls an’ declarin’ that they
Are growin’ more beautiful day after day;
Chattin’ an’ braggin’ a bit with the men,
Buildin’ the old family circle again;
Livin’ the wholesome an’ old-fashioned cheer,
Just for awhile at the end of the year.

Greetings fly fast as we crowd through the door
And under the old roof we gather once more
Just as we did when the youngsters were small;
Mother’s a little bit grayer, that’s all.
Father’s a little bit older, but still
Ready to romp an’ to laugh with a will.
Here we are back at the table again
Tellin’ our stories as women an’ men.

Bowed are our heads for a moment in prayer;
Oh, but we’re grateful an’ glad to be there.
Home from the east land an’ home from the west,
Home with the folks that are dearest an’ best.
Out of the sham of the cities afar
We’ve come for a time to be just what we are.
Here we can talk of ourselves an’ be frank,
Forgettin’ position an’ station an’ rank.

Give me the end of the year an’ its fun
When most of the plannin’ an’ toilin’ is done;
Bring all the wanderers home to the nest,
Let me sit down with the ones I love best,
Hear the old voices still ringin’ with song,
See the old faces unblemished by wrong,
See the old table with all of its chairs
An’ I’ll put soul in my Thanksgivin’ prayers.

I’m adding this poem for my friends in warmer climes. The last ten years of her life, my mother spent every winter in Florida. She wrote this poem about it:

Florida is the sunshine state.
When Fall comes around, we can hardly wait
To walk the beaches and bathe in its rays.
It tans and warms for days and days.

 Now in every life a time comes round
That the sun doesn’t shine.
You should see the frowns!

They walk around with a pout and a glare;
If you mention the good days, they only stare.
They pile on the coats and cover their knees,
Forgetting that back home it’s ten degrees,
With snow piled up and a frosty breeze.

 So smile Mr. Sun in the sunshine state,
And bring out grins and banish the hate.
The skin must be tanned by Spring,
To take us back home to the land of lakes,
Where the sun will shine when it darn well pleases,
And happy we are if we escape the freezes.

 For we are back in Michigan,
Where you have to work at getting a tan.
Once again we plant and hoe and sweat.
There are memories and we don’t regret,
For soon the Fall time will be here,
And fill us once again with cheer.

 For we will travel to the sunshine state,
And you can be sure that we won’t be late
To enjoy the sun and the sand and the sea,
Cause this is the life that appeals to me.

This entry was posted in Family, Holidays, Poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Autumn’s last hurrah – a poetic tribute

  1. auscitizenmom says:

    Well, at least it isn’t summer down here. That is the best we can do.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. lovely says:

    Every picture and word of this post is beautiful Stella.

    This little excerpt “The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.
    has given me insight and great peace on this cold autumn morning.

    I have talked here about my cousin (some of you may remember) we grew up more as sisters than cousins, living 2 blocks apart amongst the dysfunction of our families.

    Her brother, my older cousin was also one of my very best friends, his nickname for me was Giggles and we spent countless hours of our lives together. He is dying, his diagnosis is 6 weeks to 6 months, that was 6 weeks ago. He is fragile like an autumn leaf and I keep saying, in my heart hang on! hang on! because he wants to stay.

    But what has God given us in the cycle of seasons?

    The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

    Not one lasts. Of course they last! They simple transform from season to season, and return in glory when it is their turn. As my cousin’s body breaks down as awful and terrible as it is it is part of the transformation but he will last. He will transform. He will see glory.

    I am not dismissing the agony he is going through, the fear and heartbreak of that final earthly goodbye I am thanking you for reminding me that he will always be he is not going away never to return he is going on ahead, everyone lasts we simply transform.

    New beautiful things come as we shed our earthly shell.

    Thank you Stella.

    Thank you Carl Sandburg.

    God is good.

    Liked by 5 people

  3. nyetneetot says:

    Autumn, Autumn, go away.
    I can’t eat the liquor cake until you’re gone.

    — Nyet

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Lucille says:

    “Autumn 2017” by Thanos Mauris


  5. Sharon says:

    Such a nice gathering of thoughts, photographs, poetry, sharings……thank you, Stella.

    Fall is my favorite season although I have to say the explosive blooming trees and bushes of Oregon in March and April are really something to behold. I enjoy that, but still wouldn’t trade away fall.

    This fall we had lots of red color in the changing trees – really magnificent displays all around. Eye candy.

    Liked by 1 person

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