In the waning days of autumn
nature sheds its hilarity.
Crimson red, halloween orange,
and golden yellow leaves shrivel,
lose their vim and fall.
Farmers’ fields, stripped of crops
seem eeirly clold and barren.
I seek warmth, light and respite.
Candles lit, afghan wrapped,
mulled wine and book at hand,
I hibernate.
I am, afterall, a creature of nature.
Slowed by age
and sensitive to seasonal biorhythms.
Shared with dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.
lillian the home poet 
The older we get the better hibernation feels! Well done, Lillian.
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Ah, really like this, Lillian 💓
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Lillian, I like how the first macrocosmic stanza narrows to the microcosm in the second. We are creatures of nature, no matter how many times we forget. I also echo what Dwight says 🙂
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A celebration of seasonal cycles and our place within them.
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Feels so relatable, Lillian — the quiet pull toward warmth and rest after autumn’s color fades. 🍷📖🕯️
~David
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The last stanza is so cozy, Lillian!
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I enjoyed your seasonal reflections, Lill, especially the line ‘nature sheds its hilarity’, the thought of leaves losing their vim, and the use of colour. I think most of us seek warmth, light and respite.
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Such a delightful, cosy poem! The cosiest poem I’ve read in a long time (and that’s a compliment because cosiness is my favourite thing ever). I absolutely love the opening:
“In the waning days of autumn
nature sheds its hilarity.
Crimson red, halloween orange…”
and how it continues, and then you just had me with:
“Candles lit, afghan wrapped,
mulled wine and book at hand”
🤍
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