Changing seasons

{Because I hadn’t been well for a few days I almost missed the changing of the seasons here in the southern part of our beautiful little island of Tasmania. I was reminded of a poem I wrote some years ago about this, and which I still like.}

Lady in Waiting.
Lady Summer rose from sleep, and shook her golden tresses,
to claim the day before her, as she donned her flowery dresses.
But suddenly her hand was stayed, her eyes quite thoughtful grew,
for she heard a softened rustling, that was old, but somehow new.
She laid aside her gowns, then to the window sped,
and I am sure I heard her sigh,as I watched her droop her head.
I too peeped out the window, and there to my surprise,
I saw a maid whose laughing face, held merry, clear, brown eyes.
She swirled her skirts of many colours, as she spun in joyful dance,
And Lady Summer looked upon her, as one in dreadful trance.
Till quietly the dancer slowed, and to the window neared;
I wondered then just what it was that Golden Summer feared.
But Oh! I saw the maid’s brown hand commandingly extended
And realised quite startlingly, that Lady Summer’s reign had ended.
She curtsied low, then turned away, as she shut the window tight
The room was darkened suddenly, as if the day was night.
I stumbled out to seek the morn, that I knew had just begun;
I sought the warmth of yesterday but found no Summer’s sun.
Though coloured leaves came floating on a gentle, fragrant breeze,
and everywhere the brown-gold day, brought scenes just meant to please.
I drank deep of the mellow air, then felt the soft caress
of silken panels touching me, in the maiden’s coloured dress.
She hugged me quickly to her, I returned her sweet embrace;
for suddenly I recognised Dame Autumn’s gracious face.


Dianthus and seaside daisy

 Lady Summer


Dame Autumn


Season Turning

Season turning

The fields have been mowed, the hay is now rolled,

Autumn has dropped all her glorious gold.

Summer just a memory that might came again.

Now Winter approaches with frost, snow and rain.

But with fields that are mowed and hay that is rolled,

With a fire that burns bright to master the cold,

We’ll wait through the Winter; till the trees start to sing,

And the melody tells us we’ve moved into Spring.


Autumn for Brian

Brian, you said on Claudette’s blog how you loved autumn so here’s some pics from my file of autumn here in this lovely valley I live in, in Tasmania, which you may like to see. {I am not good with the camera like Claudette is though}





Autumn Thoughts

Autumn is my favourite time:
The heat of summer gone,
Springtime but a memory,
And winter hurrying on.

Golden days of luxury
That money cannot buy;
Warmth of season’s sunshine
Blue of season’s sky.

Time for deep reflection
In my autumn soul
To look for rhyme and reason
That makes me fully whole.

For winter will encase me
Sometime down the years,
But autumn builds my confidence
And takes away my fears.

For memories that will always
Bring this autumn glow,
Will never be removed
By winter’s cold and snow

End of Autumn

{Autumn in Australia ends-as far as the calendar is concerned- on the last day of May}

Her skirts spread all around her
In colours bold and bright,
Dame Autumn trembled slightly
As she thought of coming night.
Her reign had been so beautiful
In many special ways,
As her subjects paid her homage
Through mellow, golden days.
She knew she must move onward
For the shadows now were long.
And from somewhere in the distance
Rose the haunting cold of song.
Her hands clasped tight together,
For she knew that she had heard
The summons to depart,
Without a spoken word.
This day had found her watching
For things she’d often seen;
That had foretold for certain
The coming of a queen.
She felt an actual chilling
Form her head down to her feet,
And knew that naught was left
But a curtsy and retreat.
So she gathered up her skirts
And glided soft away;
As the calendar turned over
From the last of lovely May.
Queen Winter entered swiftly
In her frost-encrusted gown;
And fixed upon her snow-white hair
The diamond-icicles in her crown.