One's castle royal is where his heart remains loyal. Donna J. Fennel
A PARADIGM OF TIME® Original, philosophical poetry by Donna J. Fennel.
Quilled during this 31st evening of October, 2005.
Revised by dawn's light on November 20, 2006.
While time is cast, may our Earth of seasons last.
A wailing wind awakens the frail face of a once most peaceful place ~
Arousing a baneful beast that seeks to slumber in its asylum of umber.
Chimes gust-chased quicken their pace, towards this frigid embrace ~
While Mother Nature unveils her feral of hail, finely suited to plunder.
Ah, the soul-stirring staccato shrill from a weary wisp of whip-o-will ~
Trills, while whispers of the elemental sisters herald winter tide’s brink
And squirrels scurry against a foliage fury that hungers to flurry at will ~
Evoking a bygone season, when a fickle frost once beamed and winked.
While Autumn renounces his throne, donning a cloak and dagger of ice ~
Birth of a chord strikes against the dreary monotones of somber drones.
When another heart beats against the metronome of life, paying a price ~
As time spirals steadfast towards another spell of winter tide well-known.
Mirrored images, once host to a scintillating stream, now skulk as ghosts ~
Lurking as specters and protectors of all that is graying, decaying and done.
A slothful sun sire summons waning desire from his heart becoming toast ~
While withdrawing from a riptide of summer fun, as he rounds his final run.
Opulence overcome by fists of fog, opalescence of a wanton, waxing moon ~
Dies, as she offers an afterglow as overture, embracing edge of endless skies.
Yet another season scurries by, for time’s merciless mercenary charges soon ~
With his swashbuckling sword, he enacts the chore of wielding a yore of years.
A snow-kissed sylph reels in her ivory cape, while ochre acreage is draped ~
In crystalline down donned as her glistening gown, shrouding a balding crown.
O, the sands of time cannot escape the heavy hands of the formidable Fates ~
When this frosty vixen sashays in as they carry on, seducing a nebulous sound.
Impression inside the gilded glass harboring hours and days forward and past ~
Fosters good reason to appreciate seamless seasons that coddle and captivate
Man’s senses, for it hosts memories that last, birthing nostalgia as time is cast ~
While man keeps account of obstacles he did surmount, and learned to mitigate.
Note now, with unwavering awe, the transient thrill each spill of season brings ~
To nature’s trove of treasure without measure, bestowing beauty on every shore.
With subtle surprise they tantalize the eyes, for Equinox and Solstice offer things ~
On nature’s splendorous stage, while time turns another page in its infinite store.
The seasonal swiftness encourages timeless moments towards the undertaking ~
Of transforming pitiful periods into triumphs, the deeds of humankind’s making.
Apart from those ephemeral epics of history, that which he details ere dutifully ~
Composes chapters exquisitely engraved, on a promising path he hopes to pave.
My flagstone hearth gaily flickers and frolics, euphoric in her amber afterglow ~
As a soft-spun dream scene, woven on this eve, reflects the loom of winter’s run.
The virgin snowflakes dance in seven time, enshrined in a cadenced picture show ~
While I bid adieu to Autumn season through, for his chore has been ardently done.
O, the paradigm of time instills my mind to reflect upon this concision of days ~
When season sisters turn, full circle, towards their lifeless, lingering mother year
And the wayfaring wilderness wanderers resume their inherent, migratory ways ~
Bringing into play fine, finite finale of fabulous foliage days drawing near, I fear.
Vast visions vacillate beyond the hearth spun comforts of my comfy residence ~
For from this soothing seat of my rocking chair is a tireless transition, I declare.
While leaves chase and churn against sojourn of Father Time, one of precedence ~
Beside Mother Nature’s throne of glory, while both are spellbound in their story.
Father Time subtly shares his secrets with those among men who pay attention ~
As to how make to each day blessed and best, while slew of seasons come to rest.
Closing their eyes, they instill a frame of mind harboring complete comprehension ~
Keeping their lamplights burning bright, while this hour's monarch fulfills his quest.
Raising my silver chalice in commemoration of a sensuous, silken snowfall soon ~
My yonder frost-kissed window glints a hint of winter, and I splinter another yule.
Head of a forlorn ferret rises, awaiting the guises of an awakened Hunter’s moon ~
O, how I wish that this imagery infusing into the past would surpass the natural rule!
Comes now a holy offering from God, as His token is bestowed upon my sunken sod ~
Make no mistake that my prayer was honored, by way of a snowflake spillage or two.
While a heart becomes home of all that is known, enmeshed in time as common law ~
His Light is shone shadowing a clock’s doleful drone, as winter dreams are coming true.
Where I had stood on the verge of my dozing wood, what was once my shelter good ~
For all blessed beasts great and small, endures the evergreen emperor, tolerant and tall
Who mocks yonder windy siren howling in this sire’s glen, a voice wailing as it should ~
She seeks to reclaim this dominion once again, as she hauls the winter warlock’s pall.
Feathers are spun around from a boisterous breath of breeze heralding a Nordic bear ~
While flickering flames from my hearth foster a festive fare, not freed until this season.
Reminding this old fool to offer a fresh yule to the fast fading fires, one more to spare ~
When a calming chord is struck in my heart, knowing that all in time is for good reason.
Nature takes her bow to the passage of time, while her audience awaits another show ~
This season once purveying her foliage spread knows that the encore is over, my friend.
While she turns to face those few who viewed her as a fine character once portrayed ~
As she flaunts her sensational smile, all the while knowing that this play is about to end.
And now this yawning year’s seasonal opus makes ready for its sweetest swan song ~ Verily to be jettisoned by the din of an anxious arctic wind, for of time it is the pawn.
My restless clock winds down in relentless haste, as it puts end to this year ere long ~
Hands once still quiver, as it delivers one more to the future, while time marches on.
May you be blessed with all that is best, while autumn's afterglow comes to rest. Peace.
Copying, photocopying, distribution or transmission of the above original work and Web content
is strictly prohibited without authorized permission in writing from the author, Donna J. Fennel.
I am a registered member of the following humanitarian organizations and more at Donnadreamland. You have the power to make miracles happen during this season of goodwill. Thank you for your support:
"The butterfly is my emissary. They are so very fragile, like life. When I see one, I am reminded of the shortness of life and how important it is to live wisely."
~ Virgil ~
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