PoetryPix
depictions by the rule of thirds; descriptions mostly freestyle words
the Jade
Behind the smile
I feel a clown cliché coming on
was that a Brimstone that fell to earth
or the first of the sulphurous leaves tiring of Summer?
still the fixed smile lies in golden skin
the glow we dream of through all the days of opposition
these dusty aeons of August, plants have grown
tired of their exhibition
they flop and desiccate along the borders
effort of leaf and petal sapped
yearning to convalesce
backstage the blue and purple daisy faces
stand in line, attendant on their cue
when Autumn burns to saccharine hues
times are though when I wish to harry the days
call it a wrap
throw a nonchalant shawl with a shrug
and close the shutters at four
*A jade – middle English – a bad-tempered or disreputable woman/an old or worn-out horse. Take your pick!
Am joining the Tuesday link up with other poems in the Imaginary Garden
28 Comments on “the Jade”
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Poetry in Print
The year does have its maiden-matron-crone stages, and this poem examines closely the turn from high summer into declining fall. The “dusty aeons of August” have seen enough, and the gold becomes sere and worn. Been there done that: time to go on — that’s the “nonchalant shawl with a shrug” that turns inward and away. Nicely done.
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Great in-depth feedback Brendan
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Living in Australia we are fortunate to have flowers blooming much of the year. Even the Gum trees flower at various seasons careles of the names we call seasons. However having lived in Britain I do remember the sad faces of flowers as they said farewell. Beautiful poem Laura.
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Oh I like your ‘careless of the names we call seasons’
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Sometimes it’s good to be jaded and shut the shutters at four!
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Maybe Jae appreciates the meaning of Jaded!
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Gorgeous imagery in this one, Laura! Especially love; “when Autumn burns to saccharine hues” .. sigh.. Beautifully executed.
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Thank you Sanaa – struggled with that line
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I love “these dusty aeons of August”. You capture the torpor so well. Love the description of the jade…….I pick the old, worn-out horse! Though I can be the other, when I watch the news these days, lol.
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Hard not to feel jaded sometimes!torpor fits the time of year well Sherry
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Cantankerous in colour. Delicious.
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Great taste in alliteration there!
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You led me there.
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You have a fine ability to describe the seasonal changes in most unique terms.
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Thank you Kerry – sometimes hard to stay in touch with the seasons here in the city
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sulfurous leaves – I have been watching the yellowed leaves among the green, drifting to earth. I feel the summer winding down. I think it is time to shut the shades of summer, although here Down South, that will not be until November. Beautiful poem.
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We might yet have an Indian summer in the UK – thank you for your appreciation
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We will have our Indian Summer sometime along the middle of October – I am looking forward to it. This really made me feel autumn.
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Wonderful imagery, Laura, especially:
‘was that a Brimstone that fell to earth
or the first of the sulphurous leaves tiring of Summer?’
‘…plants have grown
tired of their exhibition
they flop and desiccate along the borders’
and
‘when Autumn burns to saccharine hues’.
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Praise indeed and many thanks Kim
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What a fantastic opening:
“Behind the smile
I feel a clown cliché coming on”
Also these:
“they flop and desiccate along the borders”
“backstage the blue and purple daisy faces”
I complete understand feeling like an old worn-out horse. 🙂
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Thank you for lovely comment ❤ and confirming how lilies feel in August 😉
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Evoking all the moods of autumn.
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I get premature moods!
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You are so good at putting faces and feelings to the seasons…
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I like that phrase of yours – thank you ❤
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“…sulphurous leaves tiring of Summer…”. Perfect!
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now that is one I struggled to avoid the cliché with so thank you
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