Storm Light

I love the poems of autumn. The season of mists and fruitful harvest. The season of colour as the growth slows and the true hue of leaves and stems are seen as the green recedes. I wanted to write a poem about autumn but so many had already been done and it seemed the subject was well covered, if not done to death perhaps. Then as I drove towards home one afternoon I saw an avenue of trees backlit by a glowering dark sky with rays of sunlight bouncing off it. The autumn colours stood out at their most vibrant for just that few moments. And so I found a way to write about the glory of autumn without being completely repetitive.

 

Storm Light

 

Bards who praise the autumn

For its glorious display.

And speak in rhyme

To lionise the shortening autumn day.

And tho’ they are each and all,

Much better men than I.

The thing they all neglect in rhyme

Is the plain, backlighting sky.

 

 

They glorify the colours

The floating scorched cascade.

The leaves that drift and dance and fall.

In rag tag ornate parade

But they seldom talk about

The stage that makes, so vibrant every hue

That frames the glowing autumnal show

In deep grey or startling blues.

 

 

To see the scarlet and the bronze

Against a back of softest grey

Or copper colours blown about

On a clear blue sunny day

And see the feathery ash

With the mighty towering oak

In avenues ranked seven deep

In their rich Autumnal cloak.

 

But to see the colours of the fall

In all their vibrancy and might

Is to see them when the sky is black

With the glow of bright storm light

When sun bounces off the laden clouds

And gales blow to left and right

The leaves the poets dream about

Glow best then in bright storm light

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

 

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