Tuesday, September 14, 2010


Ah, September, fickle month,

you sing your merry song

for others, caressing cheeks with breezes fresh,

blazing your gold and scarlet

for other eyes.

Yet here in the land of flowers

you languish sultry,

hued the weary green

of old summer,

unmoved by my autumnal hunger.

So I wait for November,

he of the gray and chill repute,

to streak these southern skies

with cirrus and blue,

to kiss my cheeks briskly,

keeping faith with this sunny clime,

while he turns his wintry back

on fall.

(linking with emily for imperfect prose, today)


deb said...

I love spring most of all.
But the seasons are the seasons and have their own songs.

lovely words.

♥ w o o l f ♥ said...

ha, you're loving september too? i love the feel of september when she starts, already in early august. the heat of july residing, not yet chilly mornings, but a twinkle of fall leafs high up in the air... and then follow all the other intense fall months.
you know ofcourse of john burrough's beautiful poem of october? i've just tried for a quarter of an hour to hunt down the poem , but my memory's at a loss, and so are all the sites on burroughs, it seems.
it'll come back to me... :)

Elisabelle said...

beautiful words!

B. Meandering said...

My daughter is longing for fall also. Apparently Texas hasn't gotten the message that fall has arrived.:)
The special smells and tint of breezes are sifting through sporadically here. They are intertwined with hot spells, but fall knows it's time to come back. It should be here in full force for our pumpking festival next week.

I loved your words and imagery. You're really letting your thoughts and feelings flow out through your words. It's wonderful to witness this happening.

Thanks so much for your caring comment this morning---really helped me this morning. I'm feeling a little better, but I've not ventured out yet.

Debbie D. said...

Beautifully said!
I don't think a September goes by that I don't ask myself "why am I in Florida!?!"
My "autumnal hunger" kicks in.

Kim Hyland said...

"unmoved by my autumnal hunger"
"while he turns his wintry back on fall"

Leslie, your words express so well the love of changing seasons as well as the contentment with what we get. Makes me think of opening a present . . the anticipation and gratitude even when it's not exactly what we expected :)

Francesca said...

This almost makes me long for the fall, it's so beautiful But I'm a summer creature at heart.

Rachel said...

You really caught the changing of the seasons beautifully in your poem.

Carrie Burtt said...

Leslie this is simply lovely....:-)

Brian Miller said...

nice. fall is my most favorite time of the year..the brilliant flash of color before the death that brings life in spring...nice write...

Misty said...

i'm always hard-pressed to decide between fall or spring, tho spring's shy shimmer usually wins. and can i just say how much i love that you made november a he? i'd never have thought of it, but so true, so perfect!
this was such a great read. my sentiments exactly. (we live in texas, so it's late summer tired green here, too).

elizabeth said...


Wild Rose said...

Beautiful words Leslie and nicely done :)

Manda said...

lovely words... love the season of autumn

Tracy said...

Wonderful season dance here, Leslie! Love the humor and tenderness side by side. :o) Happy Day ((HUGS))

Mama Zen said...

Lovely writing!

patty said...

written so lovely.
"autumnal hunger"-i feel those pains, too.
visiting from emily's.

keLi said...

"the weary green of old summer"

that's it. that's it exactly. great post, Leslie.

emily wierenga said...

he of the grey and chill repute...

leslie, this is incredible... your words remind me of sitting down and sipping apple cider... fragrant and soothing. beautiful friend. all my love to you. e.

Jodi said...

Smiling, smiling...love this. But I feel bad if you don't get to see any yellow orange red trees.

Alexis Hallum said...

Oh my goodness, this is beautiFul!
"hued the weary green of old summer"- that is my favorite line.

Graceful said...

You hit the nail on the head with this one, Leslie. Beautiful capture of the changing seasons.

Emily Young said...

I love this poem. It's like Pride and Prejudice played out by the seasons - September is Wickham, November is Darcy. (And I think my favorite line is "He of the gray and chill repute.")

Laura said...

So truly beautiful Leslie...you are a gifted poet. I am so glad we have discovered each other here online. gentle steps