Seasons Poetry

• October
  O hushed October morning mild,
  Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
  Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
  Should waste them all.
  The crows above the forest call;
  Tomorrow they may form and go.
  O hushed October morning mild,
  Begin the hours of this day slow.
  Make the day seem to us less brief.
  Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
  Beguile us in the way you know.
  Release one leaf at break of day;
  At noon release another leaf;
  One from our trees, one far away.
  Retard the sun with gentle mist;
  Enchant the land with amethyst.
  Slow, slow!
  For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
  Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
  Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
  For the grapes' sake along the wall.
  In Seasons - 150 days ago
• Blue-Butterfly Day
  

  It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,
  And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry
  There is more unmixed color on the wing
  Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.

  But these are flowers that fly and all but sing:
  And now from having ridden out desire
  They lie closed over in the wind and cling
  Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.

  
  In Spring - 150 days ago