Tag Archives: elegy

Writing 201 Day 8: Flavor, Elegy, and Enumeratio

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Flavor of Autumns Past

Pungent scent of oak, pine, and maple trees

Penetrating the autumn air.

Remembering also the birches, cedars, and elms

Adding their aromatic flair.

Clasping to the limbs are leaves of deep and changing

Colors; apple red and tangerine orange,

And bright splashes of dark lime and lemon yellow grandeur.

Sweet memories of walking, strolling, and

Wading through clusters, piles, and layers of fallen leaves.

Autumn is harvest time as the last

Of the vegetables and fruits are plucked smelling fresh and sweet.

Pumpkin, squash, and ripened tomatoes

Are reaped from the gardens while the clinging apples

Are pulled from the orchard trees:

Granny Smiths, braeburns, bright red delicious, and

The yellow delicious apples too.

The last of the corn, the wheat, soybeans, and hay

Are reaped without further delay.

Then all enjoy the harvest and a feast on Thanksgiving Day.

Enjoying the warm winds from the south

And the west; a strong and yet gentle, tantalizing breeze

Before the colder north and eastern gales

Rush on in and strip the swaying trees until they’re bare.

For by then autumn is gone and winter

Has rushed in with its snow, layers of ice, and frigid cold

As temperatures drop to zero and below.

Amid the snow and that freezing cold, we take the time

To celebrate Christmas, favorite holiday of old.

Then to restore hope of warmer days to come, a hint of

Spring is in the air as the snow melts

And the ground is bare. Also soon, the snow turns to rain

And the world becomes green again.

Summer then arrives for all those young at heart who like

To camp, hike, swim, and dive.

Such enjoyment of long days, abundant sunshine, and

Celebration of Independence Day.

Like the musical beat of a favorite song or poem which

Entails its own melodious rhyme,

Each season with its own scents and flavors enters in its own

Predictable and expected time. As

After autumn, winter arrives, and then comes spring

Followed by summer and then autumn

Returns again with its own aroma and charming flavor

 like an enchanting and familiar friend.

Poetry 201 Assignment 5: Fog, Elegy, and Metaphors

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In this latest poetry assignment, we were asked write about fog in an elegy which is often about an irreversible loss; like something you can never get back. And we’re to include metaphors in our writing. In contemplating this, I felt compelled to write about one of my deepest losses which often feels like a fresh wound that never heals. Just reliving this in my mind brought new and uncontrollable tears but I I felt some relief in writing about it and in that I am finally sharing this story. I have no doubt that it is God who comforts and gently helps me to remember even the most secret memories that are buried the deepest inside of me. I do have the comfort of knowing that she is safe and happy with Jesus in heaven. 

Trying to Remember

Has it really been almost five years?

Sometimes it seems longer

And yet in my moments of anguished tears

It seems yesterday, I did hear her

These past recent years have been so

Painfully empty and void

Of her sweet presence, her cheerful face

And her laughing voice.

Oh what did she last say? I sadly forgot

I am searching through the fog

Of my many memories of my childhood home

Where I was never all alone.

My blurred memories are like the many rooms

Of our two-story, century old house

Where in the years of clutter, a recollection is hidden

 like a treasure of precious gems.

She was always there spreading her love so

that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Like the scent of the freshest flowers, our house permeated

of her nurturing spirit and her gentle, soft voice.

Oh how I yearn to remember her comforting words,

Can’t I have that that wish, that one choice?

How I dream to hear her laughter and see her smiling

Once again. Oh, just one more time.

The foggy haze is still sticking and lingering in me

Not letting me remember or to see

And it won’t let me grasp what I long to know;

The last words she said on the phone.

Oh I do remember, soon Easter was coming

And I told her on the phone,

“In a few days I will see you, Mom.

In a few days I will come home.”

As we gaily chatted away, I continued,

“Mom, we’ll have a splendid Easter.

Work has granted me extra time off so

We’ll have four days together.”

But before Easter came and before

I could journey home

My mother suddenly passed away

In that big old house all alone.

She was so happy to talk to me on the phone

And joyful that I was coming to see her

Now the fog like a weakened storm has cleared

And in my mind her voice I could hear.

With an aching heart I remember my mother’s joyous tone,

 “I love you and I will see you soon.”