November 24, 2009

A poem for November



Pumpkins

Curling vines pearl the earth;
the ancient tribe convenes
in twirly riot
of orange rotundity.

Their solar girth belies
their fragile origins--
light-gilded bees and
gossamer blossoms.

Waxed mirthsome now, they flirt
with anthropology,
bending the narrow rows
of nomenclature.

And He who broods fireballs
to prophesy frost
now calls them from fields
for our festival need--

So sing vine to village!
Come promenade porches, 
come reel the tired hillsides
and strathspey the paths--

Then, carapaces of sunset,
go jig round the nutmeg
and gingerly bow
to piecrust.

copyright 2009 Lynn Bruce

                                   (photos courtesy of Norcal Blogs and Earthbound Farms)

7 comments:

Dawn @ My Home Sweet Home said...

Delightfully whimsical! :-)

Keri said...

You wrote that!? Pure gorgeousness!!! You are my hero.

Katie said...

Strathspey? :fumbling for dictionary:

Love you!

Rachel said...

Beautiful, and the picture at the bottom is my new friend. =]

Emily Anne said...

What a lovely blog! :) I love the photos of the pumpkins.

Blessings~

Anonymous said...

Love this! So sad I didn't get to visit at the meeting. Come back again when we can chill at The Patch! I haven't slept there since we moved here 3 years ago. I miss it and keep telling Mama I am coming for a sleepover! Loved your article in Bro. Bradley's paper. It really touched me, you are so talented. You must write,,,,more...more..more!

Sheila said...

So, so, so tee-totally impressed, I am! Inspired. Keep it up, girl! :-)