The haunting note that Autumn pipes
Upon a silver reed,
Sings of a field where briers grown,
And slowly ripening seed,
Of mist draped hills and valleys deep,
Where purple tinted meadows sleep.
It tells of wooded hills and sings
Of an old grass grown lane,
Of weather beaten barns and sheds,
And stocks of golden grain,
Salt marshes bordering on the sea,
Homes where fine people love to be.
A rush-fire smoldering in the dark,
Old roots of elm and birch,
A little town hedged in with trees,
The spire of a church,
Like a tall finger slim and white,
Pointing to heaven in the night.
The smell and taste of ripened fruit,
Apples and grapes and quince,
Brown coated russets . . . honey pears,
As colourful as chintz,
Bittersweet . . . golden rod and ash,
The pungent smell of burning trash.
All these . . . and purple tinted days,
Are in the song that Autumn plays.
~Edna Jaques
Oh, I do so love the poetry of Edna Jaques. I feature it often on here. I think she is my favourite of all the poets. Not just because she is a Canadian either . . . although to be honest, her Canadian-ness speaks to my own Canadian heart because of course a lot of my thoughts and memories echo her words. I think I love it because it has a kind of simply honesty about it, nothing pretentious. She's not out to impress anyone . . . she just writes from the heart.
We enjoyed the missionaries company last evening. The four of them have had a bad week with tummy ailments and colds etc. It was nice to feed at least two of them up and coddle them a tiny bit.
Here is a little something which I painted the other afternoon. The owl is a balloon in case anyone wondered . . . it has blown away in the wind. I guess it's a tad bizarre I suppose. I probably should have done a normal balloon . . . but in my mind I saw an owl balloon . . . it looks more like she was trying to capture a real owl though . . . and that is not what I had envisioned. Oh well . . .
Working on sketches for the children's book today. That will keep me holed up in my studio for most of the day. Not that I mind . . . it is a chore I rather love as you know!
A happy thought to carry with you all day . . .
"One of the simplest ways to be happy . . . is letting go of the things which make you sad."
~anon
Happy day all! Remember to look for the joy!
Baking in The English Kitchen today . . . Honeyed Apricot, Oat and Walnut Cookies!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Your comments mean the world to me, and while I may not be able to address each one individually, each one is important to me and each one counts. Thanks so much!