The gathering voice of old man winter,
summoned the icy north-wind to blow.
Gently shaking, each oak limb trembles,
scattering a mosaic color carpet below.
The leaves a membrane for the season,
left over from the year’s autumn show.
Now nature is snug beneath its blanket,
Awaiting December’s first quiet snow.
©2011, Donald Harbour
Gentle and beautiful. Languid and wise.
Excellent combination of the prompt words. Lots of beautiful images in my head now.
I like the ‘thoughts’ substituted for ‘comments’. Funny how changing a single word changes the entire mood.
I enjoyed the caption on the photograph — made me laugh. The snow makes the final stanza my favourite. I was excited at the thought of snow here, but Atlanta has a way of escaping whatever happens around it.
Mmm. I just reread the poem and love the way each stanza shifts to the next, each one depends on the previous. Nice.
Hello Donald: seems we both turned to nature for this prompt. The words seem to naturally lead there for me.
Your poemlets stand well alone and work together as a unified whole. The end rhymes on the second line of each couplet are well-executed. The imagery in each one is gorgeous.
Donald, this makes me homesick for a snow-covered winter. Beautiful imagery. It has been in the mid 70’s here during the day, and in the 30’s at night. I really don’t adjust well to not seeing the changes of the seasons. *sigh*
The mood of this piece is wonderful. Donald, throw some snowballs for me!