Thursday, September 6, 2012

Ode to Autumn

Busy, busy times here for me.  Tons of filing to catch up on at work.  Trying to dig out some long sleeved blouses so I am prepared with the change in weather comes, and I don't know why, but I think the cool air is going to come on us quick when it does come. It has been pretty darned miserable here this week what with the remnants of the hurricane and all that tropical air so it's hard to believe that Autumn is right around the corner.  But, last night was one of my late nights, and as I was walking home at 8 pm, I noticed that night had already arrived, a sure sign that the signs are a'changing.

With that in mind, I'd like to close today with a wonderful poem by John Keats.  Hope you all enjoy.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,---
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats


  1. Believe it or not, Mary, we are getting the remnants of the hurricane all the way up in Canada.

    I got soaked the other day but I had to keep my doctors appointment then go shopping as well.

    I love Keats, what an amazing poem Mary.

    My son and daughter are coming for supper tonight so I am making roast beef with all the trimmings and baking oatmeal cookies.

    Hope you have a wonderful day Mary.
    love and hugs Sharon

  2. You know - I think you're right Mary. I feel the Autumn coming a bit early as well. Cooler mornings and it.

  3. Yes, it's noticeably cooler here now already.

  4. No one captures Autumn, better than Keats....

    Gentle hugs,

  5. I'm looking forward to Fall too. I think the heat of my first summer in the South has gotten to me way too much. Beautiful poem and photo :)

  6. Beautiful! It has been a scorching drought here in easten Kansas! Ready to enjoy fall. Thanks for sharing this beatiful poem. I need to buy new shirts, darn it!

  7. Great poem to share today, Mary. The goldfinches are molting, so they are losing their bright yellow feathers, to replace for the winter dull color. Seems early to me for that. Very cool mornings here, now, and a bit of color changes.

  8. Oh Mary......I LOVE Keats!!! what a wonderful poem...and I know Autumn is right around the corner. At least you have autumn in the East....down South it goes from hot to less hot! LOL LOL LOL



  9. Hello my friend.
    It's gone from hot to cool and back to HOT again. I hear come Monday night it will be more like Fall ....we are going to cool off and have seasonal weather.
    I like Fall, but I can wait. ;0)