 |
| (picture courtesy of |
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 prose and poem, at the same time incorporating other monstrous November scenes.
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 soupçon of comfort from the depths of the sombre
monotony that exists solely within their hearts.
This is November. Enjoy.
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.
Oh Val, I am so sorry to hear about you being burnt, how awful. But your writing here is excellent. Touching, poignant, evocative lines throughout. I'm going for a re-read. First rate.
ReplyDeleteOoooh thanks, Geraldine. The burns were a long time ago but I still want to preach at people who are careless with fire.
ReplyDeleteYou write so beautiful, even with unpleasant topics. Fall is indeed full of transitions.
ReplyDeleteThank you, kden. It is true, isn't it, that fall brings about memories. I find it a very emotional month.
ReplyDeleteHello there Valerie!
ReplyDeleteI am slowly making my way back to blogging, so I wanted to stop by to say Hi and catch with your latest post. Both these pieces are brilliantly written. I can't even imagine what you went through back then with being burned. Isn't it something how fire can be both beneficial yet, also dangerous?
Have a super week, dear lady!
X to you and Joe
What a horrific event in your life Valerie. I am so sorry you had to go through that. Wonderful writings here, beautiful poem and words.
ReplyDeleteYour poem was a wonderful response to the trauma, Valerie. Very thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteGood morning, Ron, and welcome. Thrilled to see you back in Blogland. Yes, it is amazing that something so attractive and warm is so dangerous. As you know, my aim every November is to warn people against that danger.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Denise. Glad you enjoyed my yearly offering.
ReplyDeleteJennie, I am pleased you thought it was thought-provoking. That was my intent.
ReplyDeleteNever cared too much for fireworks… they can be so pretty, but are too loud and potentially very dangerous.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for your injury, sure glad you recovered!!
Terrific read, thanks!
Mary, I must admit I've never been one for fireworks. They really are 'playing with fire' and should be abolished.
ReplyDeleteYou hit fall on the head with a perfect description. Sometimes here in the States we call it "Indian Summer." What ever it's call fall has some wonderful virtues along with a sense of apprehension .... here in northern Minnesota. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd it is also my birthday month, which is the reason I love it so much. :-)
ReplyDeleteOn a more serious note (well, it IS my birthday in eleven days, though), I love November because it's got tattooed autumn across its pretty forehead.
Loved your two pieces. Thanks.
Greetings from London.
Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks once again for sharing, Val.
Such a talented and wonderful person.
I'm a big fan of November because my little darling was born this month, and I can't imagine life without my November baby.