MY LITTLE FALL POEM

When winter warns of midnight toil,

September is the twilight we treasure;

Guiding the days that do lie ahead,

Fall offers melodies, measured:

These gilded, crimson, soothing tunes,

Are guilty of indolent pleasures...

I pensively pluck at some

Alabaster bars, housed in a black wooden stage;

Such ivory keys store the promise of truth

When paused from the days' current rage...

Freed from their Waterford nest built of crystal,

Sprays of orange bittersweet spill;

They sway to the strikes of the

 Smooth metronome; click, click, be still...

Whimsical sheet-music stares back, declaring

"Of the Pinafore, I am Commander"!

It's then that my Grandmother hands me a

Butterscotch; I savor its rich, spicy amber.

Jalousie windows have opened quite wide,

Witnessing autumn's great beauty;

 Her shimmering breath embraces each note;

Caramelized air pays its duty.

BEHOLD,

The Buttercup verse: dainty and light;

It finally has come into view!

Grandmother, so wise and deft in her ways,

Has furnished a song I once knew...

Sweet little Buttercup! Dear little Buttercup !

You're lemony-gold like narcissus,

The crown of a king, a canary's fine wing;

Daffodils, warm and delicious.

 

At this time of year, the leaves shed a tear;

What do we make of such things?

Oh Camus! You nailed it! You knew all along:

Autumn IS Earth's

Second Spring !!!

poem by L.P.-G. / 9-2023

TICKED OFF, and then some !

                

Five years ago I developed symptoms highly suspicious for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. That said, I initially thought that the red rash expanding across the dorsal aspect of my lower extremities and wrists was poison ivy. [IT WAS NOT!]. In truth, there had been something that perplexed me at that time: i.e., for reasons that didn't make sense, this distinct rash failed to produce even the slightest hint of an itch. After about three days of an excruciating headache, muscle pain and severe night sweats, I found an engorged tick buried in the crook of my left arm. This incident happened in southeast Georgia, and I had been in the wooded areas that surround our [second] home. I promptly made a call to the pharmacist in the village and started 10-14 days of doxycycline. Slowly, the symptoms abated. 

I was very lucky...

Last week I fell prey to yet another tick bite but [most fortunately] I found the little monster within 24 hours. This creature appeared to be a 'wood tick' from what a magnified cell phone picture indicated and [lucky for me] it did not appear engorged from a blood meal. So far, no rash and no target lesions have appeared. We had been down to Georgia to clean up after hurricane Idelia swept through. There was a ton of outside work to do and it was very, very hot! Unfortunately, I had let my guard down and did not dress appropriately. Numerous deer prance through our southern property on a daily basis, destroying our azaleas and other perennial plants. When we purchased [in Savannah] more than a decade prior, I almost never saw a single deer but the current rapid increase in their numbers also plagues our primary residential property in Michigan and our third property in Virginia...Deer carry ticks and ticks carry disease; it's a fact!!

In the end, "Bambi-like" creatures may appear cute; just beware of the consequences of letting their numbers go un-checked...

*****************

I don't view these deer

"So dear" as might others;

They've trashed my fair gardens

In Spring, Fall and summer...

Their numbers keep growing,

Yes! ... Year after year !!

The ticks that they harbor

Are my greatest fear !!!

poem by L.P.-G. / 9-2023 

MY POEM IN MEMORY OF A GREAT AMERICAN NOVELIST...

                                                                           

Summer is leaving:

Not much we can do

(To quell the

 Expected egress).

 

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Lamented its end;

(Perhaps it convened

   Great distress) ...

 

He wished to subdue it,

To push it far back;

(Much like the waves

 Parting shore)...

I share in his feeling,

As warm nights bring healing,

And summer's a treat

 I  a-d-o-r-e !

Jay Gatsby:

"Summer's almost over. It's sad, isn't it?  

Makes you want to - I don't know - reach out and hold it back".

Nick Carraway:   "There'll be other summers".

THERE WAS A CROOKED MAN

                                                                 

There was a crooked man

And he had a greedy wife;

Their first and foremost goal

   Was to have a sumptuous life.

This aim, however, hinged on

Him  rigging an election;

Pursuant to the latter, there

Must not be mass defection.

So...he gathered all around him,

Crooks and liars, thugs and thieves;

This cohort reeked of mischief:

Evil dwelled in their beliefs.

But "chickens", it's been often said,

Will  'soon come home to roost ':

Rudy, Sidney, John and others,

How you scammed, deceived, seduced ! 

 

My hearty thanks goes out to those

Who sought to make things 'right';

While Trump supporters praised his deeds,

You persevered with light.

                                                            poem by L.P.-G. / 8-2023

Oh JULY, WE BARELY KNEW THEE!!

                                                                     

The last gasps

Of this Dog-Day month

Applaud its

  Splendid hues...

 

The Black-Eyed Susans'

Petals 'swell':

There's gold among

The mews...

In twelve weeks

We'll spy pumpkin patches,

Frost beneath their vines;

As Earth prepares

Its future feast

Of burnished,

Clement wines...

poem by L.P.-G.  /   7-2023