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02 November 2011

INSIGHT TO NOVEMBER

INSIGHT TO NOVEMBER

The Prose

November is perhaps the most moving month of the year, steeped in tradition and teeming with expectancy. Why yearn for sunnier climes or a terracotta tan when November's seasonal pulchritude comes free of charge. Broad avenues, awash with colour and piled high with copper jewels: red-gold gems, cascading from majestic trees, making way for fresh creations of embryonic buds.

Natural beauty contrasts sharply with more morbid attractions. Searing bonfires concoct a vivid tableau. Orange flames triumphantly lick the feet of man-made guys, egged on by a jubilant audience gobbling sausages and baked potatoes. Historical, traditional, and macabre, as are the fireworks: pretty explosives noisily winging, gloriously beguiling.

Scarlet poppies adorning our attire signify remembrance for the soldiers who fought for liberation … the war dead, who gave us optimism. Yields of mistletoe and holly and sometimes early snow prompt thoughts of Christmas celebrations, of nativity, and gatherings of families and friends.

Thus, November is a month of diverse elements: breathtaking, poignant, and sad. But it is never dull and those who claim that it is should examine its true potential, and wrest a soup├žon of comfort from the depths of the sombre monotony that exists solely within their hearts.

This is November. Enjoy.

November was the month, many years ago, when I was seriously burnt, and had the misfortune to be in hospital when victims of bonfire and firework ‘accidents’ were admitted. I felt obliged to write the following poem, at the same time incorporating other monstrous November scenes.

The Poem

Broad avenues awash with colour,

Red gold gems tumbling to the ground;

Evolution preparing fresh creation,

Embryonic buds already sound.

Beyond the mists stem glowing vistas.

Nature sighs in resignation,

No challenger for graphic scenes

Of morbid fascination.

Poppies, red and unembellished,

Symbols of commemoration

To men in bloody trenches; soldiers

Sacrificing lives to give us liberation.

Carousals of darting, searing fire,

Triumphant flames of orange hue,

Incited by beholders’ hearty cheers

To kiss the feet of guys, and maybe you.

Motley fireworks, spectacular and loud,

Spiralling in the darkening night,

Gripping young ones, riveting them to pain.

Inevitably their shocking plight.

Advance through crumbly autumn leaves

Amidst displays of deciduous attraction,

But heed the groans as flames descend

And human euphoria condones the action.

10 comments:

Barb said...

Hello Valerie,

What a marvelous poem. I was feeling the season very deeply through your words.

I was sorry to hear that you had suffered burns in your past. I hope that you recovered very well.

I am feeling Autumn intensly as I rake and bag the many leaves in the garden. Such a mundane chore but, involving all the senses.

I love the colors on a bright day as they show off their hues :)

Brian Miller said...

whew...really nice verse...love how you brought in the remberance of soldiers....so vivid too...i love the cool mornings and the brilliant colors of the mountains around me...

Ron said...

Faaaaaabulous post, Valerie!!

You so brilliantly captured the essence of Novemenber, and why too love this month so much.

"Why yearn for sunnier climes or a terracotta tan when November's seasonal pulchritude comes free of charge. Broad avenues, awash with colour and piled high with copper jewels: red-gold gems, cascading from majestic trees, making way for fresh creations of embryonic buds."

Ah, yes...the COLORS of November! Aren't they the BEST?

This time of year is my favorite.

And also winter.

To me, there is something so artistically beautiful about seeing the starkness of bare trees against the sky.

Hope you're enjoying a lovely November day, dear lady!

X

Valerie said...

Hi Barb. Thank you for your kind words. I did recover form the burns but the inner scar never goes away. More on that topic on Saturday.

Brian, thank you. There's such a lot to be thankful for in November.

Ron, the colours determined the writing of this piece. Ooooh YES, I'm with you there, stark trees silhouetted against the sky are THE BEST.

Akelamalu said...

Even though I was born in November I much prefer the summer months. :)

Mr. Shife said...

Beautiful words, Val. I have a funny feeling I will feel a lot differently about November here in a few days. Just a hunch. Take care.

Don't unplug your hub said...

A nice poem. Brought back memories. Every year the warnings go unheeded.

HermanTurnip said...

How could you write such an amazing poem while in so much pain? Well done! :-)

Montanagirl said...

Great post, Val. Fall is on its way in for us!

Valerie said...

Pearl, but you were born in a month of great attractions, colour-wise.

Shifey, I know what you mean... I'm agog with expectation.

John, you're right ... every year people ignore the warnings. I'm posting more about it tomorrow!

Herman, serious burns are less painful than people think because the nerve ends (those which cause pain) have been destroyed. It's the things that come afterwards that cause the pain... skin grafts etc.