An Autumn Poem

Although I have never studied poetry writing, it is something I like to do from time to time. This is never planned. It usually begins when I am out walking alone, a verse will pop into my mind which I then continue at home.

The poem below is one I completed a couple of weeks ago, a series of observations from my frequent walks.

Turning colours,
lowering light,
long cast shadows
and early night.
Glowing fronds,
wet with dew,
adorn the hills
with sienna hue.
Dappled shades,
of Emerald and Gold,
slowly shift
from Summer's hold.
Floating leaves,
from the Sycamore,
move shadows
on the river floor.
Wooded walk,
turns to open fell,
where ancient limestone
has a tale to tell.
The summit promises
a nice hot drink,
to clear the mind,
no troubles to think.
A sliver of silver
across the bay,
beckons in
the end of day.
Flames of amber
in the fire dance,
to say on nature
we cannot enhance.

© C Lawson 2020

It would be nice to know what you think, I am always open to criticism to help me improve. Please comment below.

This is a painting from one of the walks mentioned in the poem.

Mixed media on cotton canvas


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