Autumn Witch

Oh she is a trouble

With her arrival unannounced

Always early never late, perhaps an August Date.

She cools the summer engines

And grinds them to a halt,

Steadfast held tight, then starts her work in sight.

Her dry boned finger first

Waves the woods to fire

Tawny yellows, Crimson reds, a siren song of what lies ahead.

And summer attempts to persuade her

Driving hard precipitation

But autumn has gone and striped her breath, a kiss of death.

In skies the Great Geese gather

In V synchronicities

While on their backs Hummers hitch, hidden from the Autumn Witch.

Hawkweed hurry

Show your face

For Fireweed and Queen Anne's Lace and Pearly Everlasting.

 

We must invade her might

We cry out - stop!

With Mullein sticks ablaze we will make again summer days!

But she is well seasoned

In control of her time

And with adieu the locals tell, she will cast her autumn spell.

(C) Paul James. 2009