Four Seasons

[Pendragon]

Four Seasons

A tiny bud, that’s all it was—
when I first saw it appear upon the twig.
Then it mushroomed, might say it bloomed—
into a green maple leaf; not so big.
In Autumn it was shed, now blazing red—
to dance its final waltz with the wind—
wrapped tightly against winter’s chill, I find it on the trail—
there’s hoar-frost all around the rim…

Pendragon
© 2/22/08

[lucidnightmares]

it`s hard for me to understand why no one has commented on this one yet
i like how it`s short yet filled with meaning
to me this is like how we rush through life, but then again alot of things seam to be as of late.
reminds me of the beauty of nature and how i don`t appreciate it as much as i should.
i also enjoyed the imagery in this piece...

"In Autumn it was shed, now blazing red—
to dance its final waltz with the wind"

wonderful, like someone gracefully accepting death and just falling to the abbiss...well at least to me.

i know this may not be interpreted the was you intended but the important thing to me is that it made me think and feel wonderfully in awe.

i don`t know if it makes sense but i enjoyed it alot and it gave me something to think about
for that i thank you
i haven`t checked out many of your poems, but i think i`ll have to start:D

[ampoule]

Oh, the life of a leaf, leaves and trees, how I love them. This is beautiful Pen.

[AuntShecky]

Short and very sweet.

[Auriga]

Short and captivating. Very nicely written. It makes you think about the tiny life of a leaf (and not a leaf, at the same time). Congradulations.

[jon1jt]

Nobody's commented yet because Pen's bottled up every darn season including the seasons before. We need time to breathe, take it all in, then exhale, repeat. Pen, this is damn good; I swear this reminds me of a couple summers ago (even though you're talking about the winter, don't matter) I danced along a trail singing merry songs. To think that your poem was stirring in my heart then, I must have sung it too. Keep em' coming brother!

[Etienne]

Great, really.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Less is more. Less is more! Yes, we need amplitude at times to capture the teeming fulness of the world, the wide web of despair, but on occasions such as this poem, when the poet's wings are folded close over his heart, we see even more or more acutely through the narrow space that is afforded us.

[caelycate]

i felt like a little girl again, playing in the maple leaves at my grandparents house. as everyone else said, less is more. very nice!