Good evening to our lovely poet friends. One of our own, Darlene Franklin, is in the hospital. She left a very brief message for us, letting us know that she feels she had a “close call.”
Connie Peters says this: “FYI, I just learned from a friend, “Darlene Franklin is in the hospital with possible blood clots in her lungs. They’ve put her on blood thinners and diagnosed her with COPD and congenital heart failure. They are treating those and will send her home in a few days.”
Please keep this gentle soul in your prayers, if you are the “praying kind,” and in your good wishes, as well. We will look forward to her return to grace us with her lovely blooms in our garden.
Here we are, a little further into the season. The remaining leaves have changed and the colors have achieved a more rich and deeper hue. So we go into the palette again and tap the crimson shade to give a bit more variety to our poetry. As always, go where your muse takes you and let us see your vision.
MARIE’S RED RETREAT:
A Creator’s Palette (Sonnet to The Artist)
Describing “yellow” leaves in fall, for me,
Does not at all depict their cheerful gleam
As sunlight spills as liquid through the trees,
And they themselves could light the day, it seems.
So also “orange” can’t describe the bliss
That autumn’s gorgeous vista just compels.
And though I can’t rename it, I know this:
Fall’s celebrated color casts its spells.
My favored autumn shades though are the reds:
From rosy blush to crimson, fire-and-iced.
They fairly flaunt and flame as they turn heads.
There’s no way common “red” would have sufficed.
How can we label paints and pens of God
That leave us reverential, praise-filled, awed ?
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
WALT’S RUDDY MESS: