This poem is an oldie, so it was lovely news to learn that Phoebe had published it on her blog today. It’s a poem of changing seasons, perhaps well suited to this time of year:
The song of Summer’s ending
Lament to lost enchanted days
Sings in the early autumn winds
And rustling leaves born on the breeze
And echoes through the avenues
Of the early turning trees.
Read the rest at phoebemd.com. It’s a great site featuring many wonderful poets: many of which I’m not familiar with from elsewhere in the Blogosphere.
I’m not doing very well with my week off, am I? Perhaps I really am a workaholic…
How wonderful Ingrid! I love her blog and your “oldie” poem deserves more reads. 💖
Thank you Michele 😊
“The song of Summer’s ending
Lament to lost enchanted days”
…isn’t that the case of your poem’s colours here, beautifully stated. Lovely Ingrid. 🍁🍂 And I’m a workaholic too, if work is play, at least, in my case. ;)) Hi ho, hi ho… (insert sleepy dwarf emoji ;)) 💕😚🎶
Haha, I know what you mean: it doesn’t feel like work if you enjoy it, but then you suddenly find yourself exhausted and realise you need to take a break 😅
That’s exactly it! Also I don’t count this as work since it doesn’t make money… but that is my mistake. For there is a lot more involved in being part of a community (no matter how tied to something fun) than the part where we create. And perhaps that part, makes it worth more than money can buy… but it is indeed tiring. Thanks for all your time and care around WP, Ingrid 😚🙏👯♂️
I love being a writer because it doesn’t matter if I don’t make a penny from it, no one can take it away from me. I wasted so much time in mundane jobs because I felt it was my duty. I forgot about my duty to myself.
That is such a splendid poem. Ingrid. Congratulations.
Thank you so much Gabriela 🙏 ❤️
My pleasure 🌹🌹🌹🌹
Thank you 😊
Congrats. Nicely done. What a great line: “And rustling leaves born on the breeze”.