tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post1881377229869357713..comments2023-10-15T04:14:55.278-07:00Comments on Old Mossy Moon: POEM FOR THE END OF SUMMERK.Lawson Gilberthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11204234196229710524noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-85105099812785468432008-09-25T13:12:00.000-07:002008-09-25T13:12:00.000-07:00It simply amazes me to view the pictures you paint...It simply amazes me to view the pictures you paint with wordsrosettahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01120118100988469635noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-66072924003652063652008-09-24T17:50:00.000-07:002008-09-24T17:50:00.000-07:00Aine, You are so right about the sadness. I had h...Aine, You are so right about the sadness. I had hoped to communicate a loss with this poem. References to dying flowers, abandonment, the goddess of love standing in blue/cold shadows, et al. could be a loss of a lover as well as a loss of the season - or both.<BR/><BR/>Equinox, my very first post, tells more of how I feel about fall, if you care to read it.<BR/>I would love your comments.<BR/><BR/>I am so very pleased that you stopped by, Aine. I hope you will visit often. :)K.Lawson Gilberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11204234196229710524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-58141715979124743812008-09-24T17:17:00.000-07:002008-09-24T17:17:00.000-07:00I love the first line. What a wonderful sensual i...I love the first line. What a wonderful sensual image.<BR/><BR/>I've been reading so many warm, welcoming autumn poems lately. It's refreshing to hear the sadness in yours. (Even though fall is my favorite... )Ainehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08402176500997528105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-34571157243301864122008-09-24T16:39:00.000-07:002008-09-24T16:39:00.000-07:00Jason, it is such an honor having you visit here. ...Jason, it is such an honor having you visit here. I appreciate your support and your stirring remarks more than I can say.K.Lawson Gilberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11204234196229710524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-90229982863900974062008-09-24T16:26:00.000-07:002008-09-24T16:26:00.000-07:00blue possum, It IS hard to let go...but like I sai...blue possum, It IS hard to let go...but like I said, winter has its rewards as well. AND the way time fies these days - summer will be back before you know it. ;PK.Lawson Gilberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11204234196229710524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-73365775183464415622008-09-24T09:03:00.000-07:002008-09-24T09:03:00.000-07:00I was mesmerized. There was a breathless passion....I was mesmerized. There was a breathless passion. The last stirring of heat on the wind.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-27073828390808808102008-09-24T06:49:00.000-07:002008-09-24T06:49:00.000-07:00Very beautiful. I love summer the most, so it's h...Very beautiful. I love summer the most, so it's hard to let it go.blue possumhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12048267722928940892noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-63668853411441329712008-09-23T14:07:00.000-07:002008-09-23T14:07:00.000-07:00trooping with crows....I guess we have to look at ...trooping with crows....I guess we have to look at it this way - at least we have the glorious leaves to look at for a while before the colorless winter - one last burst of color before all goes bleak. <BR/>Sorry - I didn't mean to sound like the voice of gloom. lol <BR/>Winter has its beauty, too, of course.K.Lawson Gilberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11204234196229710524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-748260389102735677.post-91146526745027877172008-09-23T09:19:00.000-07:002008-09-23T09:19:00.000-07:00Ahhhh, what bittersweetness. The end of the summer...Ahhhh, what bittersweetness. The end of the summer is always this way. I've been outside all of the late morning with my son, and this poem says it all. The line about the "roses that made me queen" choked me up for this is how I feel about my dying garden.trooping with crowshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12607218793470277278noreply@blogger.com