Ripe apples and cherries, blackberries and hips
bring the promise of wines made from wild garnerings
placed in jars by the fire with sugar and clove
left fermenting for weeks and bottled in spring
then matured until winter needs soft benediction
the cork slowly pulled to release indulgent aromas;

a memory of warmth which gladdens the soul
and brings laughter to mind, the companionship
of conkers we gathered and leaves we kicked,
the bonfire's wood smoke that made our eyes sting
of the sqirrel we chased high into the oak
as he gathered ripe acorns and chattered his curse.

So now raise your glasses and toast the season
that fulfills all the others and brings us rest.

10/30/2007

Author's Note:
A challenge poem that moved away from the challenge and ito the realms of life as it is sometimes lived. It seems to want to be an unrhymed sonnet as well. Purists may not approve of this.

Posted on 10/30/2007
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