And The Poem Reads

    Each month I try to do new things, or revisit some old joys.
    In the summer, I watch "off the beaten path" movies, documentaries that have escaped me for months. Foreign films, and many closed caption reading, thrills me.
   Come September, always moving forward, I pull out the poetry. In books and on the computer, I comb the pages, of such gifts.
                                " The breezes taste
                                   Of apple peel.
                                   The air is full
                                   Of smells to feel-
                                   Ripe fruit, old footballs,
                                   Burning brush,
                                   New books, erasers,
                                   Chalk, and such.
                                   The bee, his hive,
                                   Well-honeyed hum,
                                   And Mother cuts
                                   Chrysanthemums.
                                    Like plates washed clean ( love this line)
                                    With suds, the days
                                    Are polished with
                                    A morning haze."
                                                      John Updike

This is just a jewel, a little dated with chalk and erasers, I like to remember those objects of my affection.
Plates washed clean, and the morning polished. Poetry is heaven to my soul.

                                   " Tis the last rose of summer,
                                     Left blooming alone;
                                     All her lovely companions
                                     Are faded and gone."
                                                        Thomas Moore, 1830
To be the last rose of summer, must be such a privilege, denied to many.

                                     "September: it was the most beautiful of words,
                                      He'd always felt, evoking orange flowers,
                                      Swallows, and regret."
                                                          Alexander Theroux 1981
I love the word evoking, flowers, birds and regret. Fantastic!

I hope you September has begun with joy, and if not, find it.
My parents are very ill, and I hurt for them, and wish for miracles to come quickly to their bodies. My joy is that they have been with us, for so long.

I love that tennis begins my September, I cannot find the words to tell you how much satisfaction it bring me, but it does. Football begins with a fever, and the weather changes are small, to help me not go into shock!!

The month will bolt right past us, without delay.

Read some poetry, by the tons, feed your mind and body with things that make you grow, smile and pass on.
" How do I love thee, let me count thy ways........That is my favorite poem......do you know who wrote it?
  Thank you Miss Anna Leigh Wells, for teaching me to love poetry.....Andrew Jackson 1970