Posts Tagged ‘colors’

Today, I share a recently penned poem (see below) as the product of daily efforts to relax from the stress of retirement.  Each day, I try to take a break from the blog writing of at least thirty minutes.  My work on a document is the planting of a seed, and continues from an often painful work to select a topic question using “Yahoo! Answers” until the replies to comments are posted, and announcements of the newly published work are sent out through Facebook and Twitter.  As a result, multiple documents and drafts have my attention night and day until I may feel the sacred truths they contain are correctly delivered to those choosing to be my readers.  During my break, I generally go outside where I may search the sky—Jesus will come with clouds—and stand on the entry platform of the apartment building where I live.  In addition to seeing and being seen by my neighbors, this allows me to consider occurrences and traffic on the street.  Even so, my mind tends to continuing working on the blog, realizing errors, improvements, and materials for re-write.  In the past few autumns I’ve been impressed by the trees changing color, and I have resisted the urge to write a poem as encroaching on my blog time.  Perhaps, because leaves on one of our two neighborhood cherry blossom trees have been brown since June, the trees have become more and more a focus in my feelings and thoughts during “break time.”  So, finally, the other day, I put some notes to paper, that started out as  tercets (verses or lines grouped in poetry using the a-a-a rhyme), that I thought might be “fresher” by my using a little “poetic license.”  To avoid an extended period of working on the piece, I decided to share it immediately; and so, I attempted to post the work elsewhere as a friendly greeting and alumnus encouragement to welcome a new faculty person to the History Department of Trinity College, Hartford, CT.



A poem shared on 21 November 2013 with History @ Trinity
To welcome Professor Jennifer Regan–Lefebvre, Ph.D.,
History Department, Trinity College, Hartford, CT


The trees along my street are autumn bright
And painted to arouse ones appetite
Dripping and swaying in the cooling air

Cream puff frosted like a French éclair
An oak tree stands, its leaves now chocolate brown
But most are maples honey-laded down

The smallest, youngest to be seen is tart
Strawberry red, a sacred work of art
Juicy and luscious like the elms that flame

And most of us don’t even know their names
Ambling among the leaves that drift to earth
Without a clue how much the lot is worth

A handiwork divine is on display
No wonder one is moved to think and say
Surely such a fruit will make me wise

Warned of sorrows, vigilant for lies
I choose a simple walking on in truth
Our Maker sure must have a huge sweet tooth


Signature Mark



Michael Andrew Williams, AB 63
Washington, DC


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