ENCORING ALL 7 OF MY AUTUMN POEMS

By viewers' popular request

Seven Autumn Poems

by Leona Choy

With introductory poem:

“I Paint With Words”

I PAINT WITH WORDS

Some paint with brush and canvas
describing beauty seen by human eyes
Others paint with notes on a staff

which they set to music
Some paint with photo lens capturing color
or with nature's ingredients to produce
gourmet food for eager palates
some paint with healing hands and skills
bringing color back to pallid cheeks with health.
I paint with words.Some paint with hammer, nails, or mortar and cement

Some paint with flowers planted in fertile soil

or decoratively arranged in vase or bouquet

others paint with numbers and equations

describing, solving universal mysteries
or painting with technologies and systems

beyond my finite comprehension.

I paint with words.

Some paint on engineering blueprints

only white lines on blue backgrounds
which become impressive architectural edifices
a graphic artist paints from dreams and imagination

still life or incredible animation

a sculptor paints with hammer and chisel in stone.
I paint with words.
Each is an artist endowed by Creator God
with a portion of His creative spirit
in stewardship as a precious gift
not to bury unused
but to discover and invest
and multiply and so must I
when I paint with words.

AUTUMN'S PARADOX

AUTUMN puts on a Paradox Performance:

She hurries to change scenes and costumes

making me dizzy with her diversity

as she passes briefly between summer

and winter's blustery polar breath.

AUTUMN quickly comes and goes

a transient season of diminishing sunlight

and shortened fugitive days

still she turns once more to bless me

with the ineffable glow of a splendid sunset

leaves fall from soon bare branches

yet such glory in their surrender of life

a part of nature dying all around

amidst a time of bountiful harvest.

AUTUMN's paradox inevitably brings

sadness for diminishing mortal years

yet deep gratitude toward seasons past

rue for course of life I might have changed

now decreed and appointed

I must let go of what I cannot alter

to embrace the joy of what's to come.

AUTUMN's paradox offers me time

to gather all my nostalgia

like creatures forage for their winter larder

I will store up my treasured memories

to savor on a frigid winter's night

around the warmth of the dying embers

of my friendly hearth

and rest content in God's best plan.

SEASONAL SPECTACULAR

AUTUMN is a wet, crunching bite

of a Shenandoah Valley orchard apple

a plump pumpkin time

a snuggle-under-covers season

a time for raking leaves

winding up the garden hose

pulling up dry plants

a porch furniture storing time

a moth-balled sweater

retrieved from the cedar closet

with last year's woolen gloves.

AUTUMN is a cushion

a subdued, leaf-fire-scented buffer

between the swelter of summer

and the wail of frigid winter:

my favorite interlude

this seasonal spectacular!

AUTUMN arrives with composure

and quiet earnestness

unlike the sudden burst of spring.

It signals flocks southward

elbowing harvesters

to hurry with their bounty tasks

before the latter rains.

AUTUMN causes football fever

in restless males: spectators and team.

It sets off ghostly squeals and costume madness

in the young for Halloween

while Thanksgiving menus and fall fashions

tantalize the female mind.

AUTUMN taps summer on the shoulder

nudges it out of the way

and displaces the sultry day

with crispy-cool jacket weather.

Welcome AUTUMN!

I eagerly trade

deep-breathing frosty morning walks

for sluggish dullness that stalks

humid hot July which I

only tolerate because

I anticipate AUTUMN.

The painted leaf, the falling leaf

evoke a tension in my emotions

between joy and grief:

regret for what I haven't done

at blaze of summer sun

and gratitude for living

to this moment of harvest

in relationships and nature.

The wardrobe of the seasons

would be incomplete and out-of-style

without the flashy scarf and golden cap

of AUTUMN and her smile!

P.S. Thanks, God, for not bargain shopping

but going first-class

when You thought up AUTUMN!

AUTUMN'S POMPOSITY

Please stay—just one more day—

it’s a long time 'til spring!

The lash of latter rains

conspire with whipping winds

to chase her off stage

but autumn splendor lingers

reluctant to retreat

without a final flourish.

Eager to please

autumn struts proudly

on mountain and meadow

pompously waving

her leafy scarlet scarves

like victory banners

defying frost and fading foliage

laughing with careless abandon

stunning my summer senses

with her breathtaking beauty.

Stay, autumn—just one more day

before winter disrobes you

to naked, shivering branches

reaching for mercy to the melancholy sky

while chilly gusts sting

your flushed face.

BLUE LINE REVERIE

Crispy, frosty mornings cycle again

in a season of reflection, pensive nostalgia

granting me permission

to stroll the back roads of my mind

while wading ankle-deep in the paint-splashed carpet

kicking up waves of oak and hickory leaves

inhaling the musty mulch beneath my feet

while munching the wet crunch

and tart taste of a freshly picked Jonathan.

Here I can smell peace, forget schedules

concentrate on important things

like scampering squirrels

scurrying to stash acorns for winter larder.

I filter out all but the traffic noise

of wing-flapping, honking geese

heading South in the fast lane

while I take the exit ramp

to a blue line country lane

deliberately dragging my feet

trying to slow down my speeding life

that always seems to be

running a marathon ahead of me.

OCTOBER IN TRANSIT

Temperamental days

bluffing me, mocking me

with teasing, wistful

coquettish ways:

Late October.

Lingering memories

of high July

blazing sun

and summer fun

are tossed on the run

but mixed with

frosty ecstasies.

Reminiscing time

that casts a chill

as winter steals

with cold appeals

slipping finally

into November's prime.

GOD TRIPPED ON A MOUNTAIN

God outdid Himself again!

First He daubed His ruby brush

only on emerald maple tops

teasing them to shyly blush

then rouged their hues

with bolder strokes of scarlet bright

against the autumn cerulean blue

applying saffron-yellow

to catch the lingering rays

before the season’s early wrap

of a frigid starry night.

Suddenly this morning

all nature flamed aglow!

God must have tripped on a mountain

and dropped His palette below:

blazing gold and crimson

splashed on bush and tree

blotching lanes and lawns

spattering his paint recklessly.

Can a painter capture on canvas

such Divine display?

Or I, with feeble words of verse

His magnificence portray?

Creator-Artist-God

is without a peer

each season He paints

an original masterpiece

better than last year!

(Number 7 encored below:)