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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

By Chance or Appointment - 18. Autumn's Sonnet

Here's another sonnet before the leaves all come down. Any errors you find are mine alone.

Autumn Sonnet

The butterflies flit anywhere they please

from bloom to bloom beneath October's sun

and coast above the meadow on the breeze

as if sweet days might ever after run.

And you, like them, flew amiable and bright

where humankind a greening garden spreads;

in every blossom did you take delight,

collecting nectar at their flowerheads.

No settled favorite would you ever choose

until my creeper’s trumpet called you in;

now solely in my twining arms you cruise,

so garlanded, our equal tributes win.

In like dependence let our love be told

till autumn’s frost shall turn us grey and cold.



Thank you for taking a moment out of your day to read this. If you have a comment or response, I'm always glad to read it.
Copyright © 2022 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
  • Love 13
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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  • Popular Comment
pvtguy
  • Popular Comment

No settled favorite would you ever choose

until my creeper’s trumpet called you in;

now solely in my twining arms you cruise,

so garlanded, our equal tributes win.

In like dependence let our love be told

till autumn’s frost shall turn us grey and cold.

What a beautiful description of finding that relationship where "like dependence" allows both to grow independently yet nurtured by the love generated by the interdependence which hopefully lasts until we are old and grey!  Wow!

  • Love 6
  • Popular Comment
Parker Owens
  • Popular Comment
Just now, pvtguy said:

No settled favorite would you ever choose

until my creeper’s trumpet called you in;

now solely in my twining arms you cruise,

so garlanded, our equal tributes win.

In like dependence let our love be told

till autumn’s frost shall turn us grey and cold.

What a beautiful description of finding that relationship where "like dependence" allows both to grow independently yet nurtured by the love generated by the interdependence which hopefully lasts until we are old and grey!  Wow!

You’re very kind; that ideal of mutual and equal, interdependent love is exactly what was aiming for. This rich green and gold time, though short, is a gift to be enjoyed while the moment remains to us. Thanks so much for reading and for your comment. 

  • Love 6
  • Popular Comment
Parker Owens
  • Popular Comment
2 hours ago, weinerdog said:

The last real Autumn I had is when I was a little kid going up in Massachusetts.Here in San Diego the season's never really change except maybe a little hotter in the summertime.But what I do remember of Autumn you captured real well

Thank you. That the season left its imprint on you from long ago makes me smile, as do the autumn butterflies still flitting amongst the flowers in the garden. 

  • Love 7
Mikiesboy
10 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

This rich green and gold time, though short

Your sonnet is wonderful, of course. Your reply to a comment reminded me of Robert Frost's poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay.     Both poems remind us that time is passing, and we drift with it. The seasons in our lives change, as do our feelings about life, who we are and how we fit.

Thanks, Parker.

  • Love 5
Parker Owens
1 hour ago, Mikiesboy said:

Your sonnet is wonderful, of course. Your reply to a comment reminded me of Robert Frost's poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay.     Both poems remind us that time is passing, and we drift with it. The seasons in our lives change, as do our feelings about life, who we are and how we fit.

Thanks, Parker.

Thank you for reading and considering this sonnet. I loved the reference to Nothing Gold Can Stay. It’s an elegant and succinct response to the greens and golds of autumn, and to the seasons in our lives. 

  • Love 5
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