Amber Scenery
#7 of Poetry
Uploading old poems. Please provide feedback, as I hope to continue editing and making these acceptable for publication.
An amber hill on sunny day, A cooling wind to guide the way. Fresh air blows through the scenery, Sends shivers through the greenery. Across the floor a yellow rug, The grass a carpet warm and snug. Adorned in splendid autumn's dress, The ancient trees spread autumn's mess. Beneath a stock of orange clones, A golden leaf in fuller tones.
You amber delight for my eyes, Arranged in lower spectrum's rays, Your tranquil colours reignite, A love for season's final fall.
Invigorating amber art Returns the sense of endless youth. A timeless beauty caught in sway Of wind's caress upon my cheeks.
Complete in vibrant shades of sun Its warmth has overflown its form The excess seeping into skin In doing so completing me.
This scenery won't yield to force, It weathers through the toughest course. A subtle touch of frailty, A sobering reality.
I draw upon the amber strength, Inhale deep of autumn air, My swollen breast about to burst, With season's love pushed through my veins.
Just let me lie atop the grass, And bury me in scenery, Beneath a canopy of leaves, Surrounded by the love of trees.
The leaves are falling off their perch, Come crashing down, And fade to brown.
The grass has withered under foot, A hardened ground, With muffled sound.
Stripped bare of garb the trees are shamed, The wind will sigh, And they shall die.
The amber has begun its shift Into a frozen winter drift.
Snow falls from high, It hides the leaves. The gentle breeze, Turns cold and harsh. Bright colours dim, Its life expunged. All smothered under ghostly shroud.
The final days of amber light Replaced with frigid black and white, This broken land will symbolize What death can always realize.
My hair is void of youthful flare, Complexion drained of amber's care. The fate that befalls scenery, Must some day end my misery.
I collapse with my comfort lost, My strength is sapped by brutal frost.
Such effort needed just to crawl, Across remains of recent fall. Attempt to escape painful sight, Of seeing amber in its plight.
Next year, if death will hold his hand, I'll return to this hallowed land. I await rediscovery, Of former amber scenery.