Of Rime and Reason

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Written for Write at the Merge, Week 45, using the following prompt:
“The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.” William Shakespeare

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Trifecta blog banner3 currentAnd for Trifecta:  to use the third definition of CRAFT (noun)

1 :  skill in planning, making, or executing :  dexterity
2 a :  an occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skill <the carpenter’s craft> <the craft of writing plays> <crafts such as pottery, carpentry, and sewing>
b plural :  articles made by craftspeople
3 :  skill in deceiving to gain an end <used craft and guile to close the deal>

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Autumn’s on my stoop,
I brush the golden leaves aside, clearing
Pathways – unencumbered egress
To steps and yard beyond;
While barometric bones bode ill
Of coming chill.

Swishing, sloshing, crunching
Though crimson tapestry-covered grass.
Seemingly ungrateful steps,
(erasing verdant vibes of
Well-tended, summer carpet),
Stomping on my frisbee field.

Sweeping, raking, blowing;
Finally, giving in
To burgeoning, blustering onslaught:
A thousand once-green leaves,
now falling, vibrant (though near their end),
‘neath maple, oak, and elm bared branches.

Sensing, hearing, feeling
The under-crunch of hardening blades.
Sun-grilled days dissolve
Fade to black-chilled nights,
That taunt and tease
At nature’s wintry door.

A lone, ice crystal finds a fragile blade,
With craft, the killing frost runs
Rampant o’er the rosebuds
Rime reposing thin as icy dew,
Strewing far and wide,
Its frigid sheet.

Though baby grass can thrive
Beneath the freeze. Yet flowers wilt,
Surrendering their bloom and blush;
Hanging limp and lifeless,
Drooping low on sun-spent boughs;
Fallen victims.

Autumn’s on my stoop,
I brush the golden leaves aside, clearing
Pathways – unencumbered egress
To steps and yard beyond;
While barometric bones bode ill
Of coming chill.

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22 Comments on “Of Rime and Reason

  1. Such a lush, lovely representation of winter’s approach. I was so wrapped up in your beautiful writing that I had to read it again to find the prompt word. 🙂 Nicely done!

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  2. Beautiful imagery. I enjoyed the rhythm and flow. The image of a lone ice crystal craftily finding a fragile grass blade floored me.

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  3. Such a lovely poem, Joanne. I find it fascinating how different yet complimentary your post is with Kelly’s. As if you started in a similar place but went down different paths.
    loved your frisbee field!

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  4. What a beauty this is-loved so many things about this -“barometric bones”-indeed!”Stomping on my frisbee field.”-so cool! “Sun-grilled days dissolve”-what rich imagery!Joanne,you definitely rocked this one-I envy your writing prowess and you my friend are definitely getting my vote:-)

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  5. This was beautiful. Some see autumn as depressing/death. I prefer your way- to admire the beauty of it (but oh, how glorious spring is when everything wakes up again :))

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  6. I can feel the fall and winter colliding in this poem. I can hear the crunching of leaves and feel the chill in the air. My favorite time of year. 🙂

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  7. love your poem and it makes me realize all the beauty each season brings us

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