Aboard an Autumn Ship

Posted by Brad Osborne on July 21, 2021 · 21 Comments 

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Though the days grow short

With harvest solstice passed

The changing air still courts

A warmth that seems to last

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Greenery remains aloft

As yet to take the plunge

And dapples mountain far as soft

As painter’s well-worn sponge

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Snap now fingers of morning air

The frost will be here soon

Fear I loss of sun so fair

Save for the beautiful moon

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Oh, the joy of summer days

Remembered to the last

I knew that you could not stay

But have forsaken me too fast

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This omen of impending cold

Colored tapestry of new fall

Like seasons growing ever old

You hear the reaper’s call

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Bounty, bosom, and harvest shared

Fields readied for their sleep

From winter’s touch may I be spared

The friend in you I keep

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But as all seasons come and go

I know you’ll leave me too

Like call of morning rooster’s crow

What else are you to do

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In days ‘tween summer’s heat

And winter’s deathly grip

Warm winds fill sailor’s sheet

Aboard an autumn ship

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Filed under Poetry · Tagged with at sea, autumn, fall, poem, Poetry, sailing ship, seasons, strict form poetry, summer, winter