Kara D. Spain is a poet who often writes in the lyrical, formal style. She enjoys spending time alone, contemplating life, while drinking warm tea. She is "married to my wonderful husband of ten years" and has two spoiled cats. More of her poetry and publications her website: http://lyrical-discovery.blogspot.com/
Waiting on Fall
In anxious expectancy, I wait upon Fall’s return,
where gold and crimson hues, melt into summer-weary eyes,
turning the damp heat into cool, crisp breezes of Autumn;
Within a contemplative mind, I hear hay-wagon wheels,
smell sweet straw, stacked upon fields of corn mazes,
and savor the sugar of candy corn and clouds of confection-
It’s a return to the child within, and the comfort of Fall,
when I will tuck my feet, under a patchworked quilt-
circuitous fingers, wreathed around a cozy mug;
It’s then, I will press my ear, to the muse of Autumn’s love,
and be wooed by her songs of renewal and change
Winter’s Love
Here he comes, in ivory magnificence,
with renewing chill, that hibernates the mighty,
unto caves of crackling flames and hot chocolate dreams-
a frothy whipped topping of snow covered earth,
is where regeneration begins- this is the season of love,
though nature does not recognize- it is the season of amor
“Autumn’s Magnificence” Linocut Collage. James Hubbard, Indiana printmaker and IN/A Members Chairman
|
Waiting on Fall
In anxious expectancy, I wait upon Fall’s return,
where gold and crimson hues, melt into summer-weary eyes,
turning the damp heat into cool, crisp breezes of Autumn;
Within a contemplative mind, I hear hay-wagon wheels,
smell sweet straw, stacked upon fields of corn mazes,
and savor the sugar of candy corn and clouds of confection-
It’s a return to the child within, and the comfort of Fall,
when I will tuck my feet, under a patchworked quilt-
circuitous fingers, wreathed around a cozy mug;
It’s then, I will press my ear, to the muse of Autumn’s love,
and be wooed by her songs of renewal and change
Winter’s Love
Here he comes, in ivory magnificence,
with renewing chill, that hibernates the mighty,
unto caves of crackling flames and hot chocolate dreams-
a frothy whipped topping of snow covered earth,
is where regeneration begins- this is the season of love,
though nature does not recognize- it is the season of amor
The Path We Walked
We’d walked this path many times,
during the winter of our youth.
A snow-packed ground, crunched beneath our feet,
like popcorn stuffing from delivery packages;
the sound reminded me of youthful adventures,
and outdoor sports, played upon winter’s first snow
In the South, winter is exhilarating-
a welcome break from scorching heat,
but not too biting- it gives one the excuse,
to drink hot chocolate with marshmallows,
or build a fire for making s’mores;
so many adventures, so much time to spare,
or so it seemed, to the imagination of our youth
As my brother and I looked onward as far as we could see,
down the path of anticipating dreams,
the road seemed new and unfamiliar-
waiting for childish footsteps to discover,
what gifts Winter would bestow;
while our minds were filled with notions,
of purity and innocence-
just like the, ivory-driven snow
Kara D. Spain
during the winter of our youth.
A snow-packed ground, crunched beneath our feet,
like popcorn stuffing from delivery packages;
the sound reminded me of youthful adventures,
and outdoor sports, played upon winter’s first snow
In the South, winter is exhilarating-
a welcome break from scorching heat,
but not too biting- it gives one the excuse,
to drink hot chocolate with marshmallows,
or build a fire for making s’mores;
so many adventures, so much time to spare,
or so it seemed, to the imagination of our youth
As my brother and I looked onward as far as we could see,
down the path of anticipating dreams,
the road seemed new and unfamiliar-
waiting for childish footsteps to discover,
what gifts Winter would bestow;
while our minds were filled with notions,
of purity and innocence-
just like the, ivory-driven snow
Kara D. Spain