Autumn leaves flip and flutter in the wind, weaving as they do, a grim winter’s tale; the yarn unravels swifter than its spin a story of days growing cold and pale. I watch the plot unfold in shades of gold but its music and verse I strain to hear. Autumn’s lips mime a muted song: I’m old. It mourns the self I’ve barred behind my fear, where from this prison watch the time go by, hear the playwright’s words when the music plays on the other side of silence, I cry for time ill spent, my future marked by days.
How I hope to steal one last glimpse of spring! But summer’s spent, fall yields to winter’s sting.
I know I know, I need to call so we can do the bagel coffee brunch again, Sis. Your neighborhood certainly provided enough material for the mind to put this together. I've kicked those leaves of gold walking from your house to our local monopoly called Ball Hospital when I volunteered that day of our visit. Still, there is a lot of anticipation in aging that none of us wants to acknowledge right away. Just tonight, my left metacarpal bones popped and all I did was lean my chin on the top of my hand. OUCH! The "me" I use to know would creak and squeak like that, but it let me know, "take the glucosamine, drink more filtered water, and stop typing for hours upon end" as is the writers curse of the heart (endless typing until we can't keep our eyes open.)
Anyway, it was a nice read, your "Silent Symphony." And ain't it weird how even my ears are changing to wanting to search for easy listening music on the radio now. Me, becoming my mother! (LOL).
blessin's
cynth'ya
You certainly have the soul of a poet. This reminds me in some ways of my poem, October. Autumn and Spring are my favorite seasons of the year. Keep spinning words into great poems.
I humbly apologize for my delay in writing. It's been rather interesting here in Florida of late.
Regardless, I simply loved this poem. It's movement is even reminiscent of the seasons themselves...tempo, and emotion bearing witness to the inevitable change of nature and of us as people.
Great poetry. So much clarity , and depth of thought. Aren't th4e seasons like moods pointing toward our true nature? Franz
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on October 24, 2004
I am just aghast. Yep. How do I say something, anything, without parroting all those who have gone on before me? I have a problem being profound when profoundness is the thing to strive for. You put so much into this poem or sonnet, or sonnet poem, or whatever. You used the changing of the season to delve into the human psyche and the tenuousness of the human spirit. What you penned here is framable.
youv really turned it around a lot since the first version
but i think this really achieves must better what you set out for in the former it loses nothing of it & in fact imo only enhances v moving i felt the sympathies of our human plight frailty & longing & bondage you describe so intensly, life is nothing without wanting hasta anon robin
This is superb, Carmen, and I love what you are bringing and teaching us in the beauty of the sonnet form, which you seem to command with such apparent ease. Such depth of imagery and idea here and this poem has really excited the reader - as you can see by the range of enthusiastic comment below; we all have a favourite line or two - and not the same ones! This is tightly executed and yet has such a yearning and longing easy flow to it. Pure class. Loved the way you separated the last two lines as a coda. Excellent use of strong evocative and meaningful language. The guys in my poetry class would LOVE this!! TY Kate xx
A lovely and exquisite poem - simply outstanding!!
Robert
Reviewed by ***** ********* (Reader)
Reviewed on October 17, 2004
A marvellous poetic musing in sonnet form, wonderfully constructed, full of metaphorial melancholy that culminates in the drama of the last couplet! Of particular interest and insight, to me, is the following:
"I watch the plot unfold in shades of gold
but its music and verse I strain to hear.
Autumn’s lips mime a muted song: I’m old.
It mourns the self I’ve barred behind my fear..."
There is such a personalized universality, at once complex and yet simple, in these lines -- BRAVO!
Carmen, I finished this on the whisper of hope for Spring to return quickly.
..but not before tears welled.
Excellently written as always.
Lisa
Reviewed by Lad Moore (Reader)
Reviewed on October 17, 2004
A beautifully crafted sonnet.
"I watch the plot unfold in shades of gold
but its music and verse I strain to hear."
These two lines say so much. For those of us who are "spiritually conscious" of the change of seasons,the words symbolize the stirring that goes on inside. To me it's a metaphor of life--how we strain to know what lies ahead, yet are comforted because the promise is always there. As Carmen says, there's a 'plot'in life that unfolds both in subtle and profound ways.
Autumn leaves flip and flutter in the wind,
weaving as they do, a grim winter’s tale;
the yarn unravels swifter than its spin
a story of days growing cold and pale.
Carmen....what a sonnet...we are lucky to have you here in the DEN....I am learning a lot about sonnets from you....and to be frank with you I think your sonnets are world class...They should be printed....give the readers all around the world a treat of your sonnets....I am lost inside this winter's tale...love n luck...BHUWAN
Carmen, how exquisitely melancholy and reflective! Autumn, my favorite season, touches on so many moods. It's a time to reflect upon nature's course...you do it so well.
Ah, nice rhythm, Carmen, with well-positioned pauses and full stops for emphasis, followed by momentum building in the sestet to the final poignant message of the couplet.
Effective choice of metaphors make this piece melancholic and emotionally strong yet refined in the way you express your feelings. A very fine sonnet!
From MIME and MUTED I was drawn deeply into the passing of the season. This poem squeezes my heart and soul with it's sorrows and expresses that longing for spring that happens in winter, the hint of which is a mist in the autumn glow. And left lost and sad by the word MARKED. Then suddenly at the very end a hint of hope and then the silent sigh of another, maybe the last, winter. A very vivid and visceral poem by the talented Carmen Ruggero.
Carmen! Superb ode to seasons and winter to come. I almost posted one about winter today , glad I didn't yours is much better;-) This is exquisite writing my friend as is every poem you do.Kudo's...
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Anyway, it was a nice read, your "Silent Symphony." And ain't it weird how even my ears are changing to wanting to search for easy listening music on the radio now. Me, becoming my mother! (LOL).
blessin's
cynth'ya
I humbly apologize for my delay in writing. It's been rather interesting here in Florida of late.
Regardless, I simply loved this poem. It's movement is even reminiscent of the seasons themselves...tempo, and emotion bearing witness to the inevitable change of nature and of us as people.
Bravo!
~Rose~
Peace and sunshine
HH
A true Flower scented with aroma of art and beauty.
Healthy Day, Poet!
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Take care,
Jill
but i think this really achieves must better what you set out for in the former it loses nothing of it & in fact imo only enhances v moving i felt the sympathies of our human plight frailty & longing & bondage you describe so intensly, life is nothing without wanting hasta anon robin
A lovely and exquisite poem - simply outstanding!!
Robert
"I watch the plot unfold in shades of gold
but its music and verse I strain to hear.
Autumn’s lips mime a muted song: I’m old.
It mourns the self I’ve barred behind my fear..."
There is such a personalized universality, at once complex and yet simple, in these lines -- BRAVO!
so well. Excellent!
..but not before tears welled.
Excellently written as always.
Lisa
"I watch the plot unfold in shades of gold
but its music and verse I strain to hear."
These two lines say so much. For those of us who are "spiritually conscious" of the change of seasons,the words symbolize the stirring that goes on inside. To me it's a metaphor of life--how we strain to know what lies ahead, yet are comforted because the promise is always there. As Carmen says, there's a 'plot'in life that unfolds both in subtle and profound ways.
Lad
A most powerful write, Carmen; and your powerful poetic words describe feelings many of us have, especially in the Autumns of our lives.
Well Done, Poetess.
How I hope to steal one last glimpse of spring!
But summer’s spent, fall yields to winter’s sting.
Reindeer
weaving as they do, a grim winter’s tale;
the yarn unravels swifter than its spin
a story of days growing cold and pale.
Carmen....what a sonnet...we are lucky to have you here in the DEN....I am learning a lot about sonnets from you....and to be frank with you I think your sonnets are world class...They should be printed....give the readers all around the world a treat of your sonnets....I am lost inside this winter's tale...love n luck...BHUWAN
Gina
Effective choice of metaphors make this piece melancholic and emotionally strong yet refined in the way you express your feelings. A very fine sonnet!
Excellent metaphor and you held to wonderful language consistently. !!! Beautifully textured work.
"I cry for time ill spent, my future marked by days."
I love the ending.
Excellent lines... Enjoyed.
stunning imagery and lines here--particularly loved, "...i watch the plot unfold in shades of gold..." DYNAMIC visionary sonnet! BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :(
Love Tinka
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Wonderful write, Carmen!