Best November Poems

In November I write of winter
  for I am weary of the old year and tired bones
I visualize all hardships blanketed with fresh snowfall
geese...

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My evening sky glints motifs gold
In orange vibes turned ruby bold
Glowing remnants of shining snow
Where pewter winds merrily blow
Swirling imprints of amber glaze
Bending hues of...

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...carries the wilted weight of autumn
                   ...

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After five days of nonstop rain, I simply must go outside. I bundle up, slip my hands into my gloves, walking briskly toward the nearby...

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The single white rose captured the old gardener's attention,
He lovingly cared for it, like it was his own grand-daughter,
The roses were just like family and...

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I wonder about her
as I shave suet and place thistle seed down -

once again

she reveals herself to the corner of my eye
a slight movement caught...

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I am somber
like November days
and my words speak
weak, as if through tired tongue

I see the trees
stand naked
reaching their limbs
across the stream
as if touching
and comforting each...

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G O L D E N
 
flower
of the solar throne
your far-away fire reigns immortal -

blossom wild beauty of chrysanthemum skies
hold me in the unfolding glory...

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Autumn’s Breeze

Autumn drapes her lacey hoarfrost
Upon the vanishing vivid leaves of 
Colored trees, upon the fences and fields
Gracing them with her demure beauty.

With her breathy...

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Oh I love the sound of the rain
   a softly spoken spiraling sustain,
marathon runners against the grain
   all soon lost within...

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You were never my friend.
My heart would never, ever allow such a small thing.
Soulmate?, maybe...though so much more in the end..
I will give you my...

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November, as the poets say -
autumn's demise, winter's gateway.
Its shortened days and longer nights
descending, death is in her sights:
leaves fall, as is their yearly fate,
while...

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The End of Love

A secret grief rips apart all that was
Slaves to the sexual caresses of time
Stallions in black gallop gallantly in fields
Of spring full...

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Outside was I one evening
with my jacket on,
gazing at the pumpkin 
still out there on my lawn
with its face carved in a grin.
It was November...

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Barren fields of November
Corn stalks ragged
        broken soldiers
        bleak beauty
 ...

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