A New September's Song

[Photo Source: GOOGLE internet images]
 

(1 Sep 2012 – The Summer is just a memory -- a leaf fallen upon cooler days.  The harvest is "in" -- its bounty to preserve for feast, else fast.  Days seen passing so quickly with the shorter sunlight hours.  Time to savor the moment -- before it is Past.  What answer to the question asked by Tomorrow, "How was your Yesterday?"

 

Below is a letter written by my maternal Cousin Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, when she was only age 15.  In the letter, she weighs the balance of Time, God, worthy pursuits, and Nature's seasons. Thoughts worthy to ponder.

 

Dorothy Hazel Tarr)

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Letter to:          To the same - Mrs. A. P. Strong

Dated:               8 Sep 1846 Boston, Massachusetts
From:                 Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (age 15)
                           (birth December 10, 1830 – death May 15, 1886)
 

My Dear Friend A., ...

 

Does it seem as though September had come?  How swiftly summer has fled, and what report has it borne to heaven of misspent time and wasted hours?  Eternity only will answer.  The ceaseless flight of the seasons is to me a very solemn thought; and yet why do we not strive to make a better improvement of them? 

With how much emphasis the poet has said, "We take no note of time but from its loss.  'Twere wise in man to give it then a tongue.  Pay no moment but in just purchase of its worth, and what its worth ask death-beds.  They can tell.  Part with it as with life reluctantly."  Then we have higher authority than that of man for the improvement of our time.  For God has said, "Work while the days last, for the night is coming in the which no man can work."

 

Let us strive together to part with time more reluctantly, to watch the pinions of fleeting moment until they are dim in the distance, and the new-coming moment claims our attention.  I have perfect confidence in God and His promises, and yet I know not why I feel that the world holds a predominant place in my affections...

 

Yours affectionate friend,

Emily E. D.

 

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SOURCE LINK (a)

By Emily Dickinson, Martha Dickinson Bianchi
Page 120 on GOOGLE ebooks

 

SOURCE LINK (b)

Letters of Emily Dickinson
By Emily Dickinson
PAGE 20 on GOOGLE ebooks

 

 

Frolic and Tittering Waif-Flies

(I wrote this, 4 Aug 2011, as the close of a beautiful day drew neigh, thinking of all the butterflies in the garden that were done with their busy day, and were seeking their rest and maybe some storytelling with their neighbors -- purely fantasy of course.  ‎"... as falling leaves absent tree boughs ... "; this is a poet's way of saying leaves are falling. Takes a bit more thought and attention to "wordsmithing".  With that phrase, I FIRST wrote it in plain English -- "as the leaves fell off the tree branches". THEN, I wordsmith'd it so it would sound more FEY and OLD ENGLISH! (chuckles) Hope you liked it!  IT WAS FUN -- like doing SCRABBLE!   By the way, "WAIF-FLIES" is a name I made up, because I thought "butterflys" JUST DID NOT DO IT for the tale.)



*** FROLIC AND TITTERING WAIF-FLIES ***

There was a certain warm lavender peace
in the Dawn shadows,
from whence a Fey Dreamer watched unobserved,
as Waif-Flies frolicked
on soft breezes.

Time's gentle hands,  pause Future's Passage for the nonce,
while the Fey Dreamer eavesdrops
on Their discreet Titterings
in an Auburn Wonderland
enshrined in Autumn's embrace.

Reality's illusions drop away
as falling leaves absent tree boughs,
as secrets are revealed
to Whimsey's delight.

[dht-2011]

[PHOTO SOURCE: Google online images]

THE CHANGING SEASONS

                              [PHOTO SOURCE: National Geographic online images]

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The changing seasons

mark the passage of time

on NATURE's Landscape,

even as the lines on my cheeks

mark the hourglass

of my life's journey.

[dht-2011]

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