Swiftly the Autumn winds have seared our trees
With scorchless fires of scarlet, gold and rust.
From afar, the hills seem consumed in colored flame.
Each hour the colors leap and soar across the hills
As the winds sweep through to spread the torch,
Set maples stirring red, aspens following with gold.
The scarlet sumac accentuates all with its flaming red
Against the background screen of evergreen firs
With their promise of eternal Spring.
So much like life it seems, at least to me,
As those fine old faces from all about with these colors
And richly sculptured lives that adorn each lovely face,
Their voices, like the Autumn wind whisper tales
Of a life richly lived in joy but also with fear
Shining through the stress of everyday living
Are signs that reveal an inward glow of youth eternal.
When these two scenes flow across my mind,
I sometimes muse aloud, to myself of course,
Which of these scenes is Mother Nature’s masterpiece?
DAWN SONG
Light dips into night
spooning shadows
from feathered hush
Morning sings skyward
in a waking lyric rush
WHEN AUTUMN COMES
Swiftly the Autumn winds have seared our trees
With scorchless fires of scarlet, gold and rust.
From afar, the hills seem consumed in colored flame.
Each hour the colors leap and soar across the hills
As the winds sweep through to spread the torch,
Set maples stirring red, aspens following with gold.
The scarlet sumac accentuates all with its flaming red
Against the background screen of evergreen firs
With their promise of eternal Spring.
So much like life it seems, at least to me,
As those fine old faces from all about with these colors
And richly sculptured lives that adorn each lovely face,
Their voices, like the Autumn wind whisper tales
Of a life richly lived in joy but also with fear
Shining through the stress of everyday living
Are signs that reveal an inward glow of youth eternal.
When these two scenes flow across my mind,
I sometimes muse aloud, to myself of course,
Which of these scenes is Mother Nature’s masterpiece?
AUTHOR NOTES
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“DAWN SONG,” found among the poet’s papers originally had no title; however, the website manager supplied this name as it seemed appropriate.
REFRACTIONS – a poem by Robert Roxby
“WHEN AUTUMN COMES” was inspired by a road trip through Pennsylvania in 1967. The poem was found in the author’s poetry journal.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“WINDEMERE, A WISH DEFERRED” was inspired by the author’s visit one rainy summer. Though disappointed not to be able to wander in the meadow, then too muddy for her sports shoes, she meandered briefly along a narrow path through the bordering woods.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.
Guidelines for submission:
SPLINTERS FOR SEPTEMBER 2023
AN OLD WOMAN’S HAIR
Once upon a time
My hair rippled down my back
Waves that glistened in the sun
That swung from side to side
With the flippancy of youth.
Today in my mirror I see only
The lank and sparce remains.
This is not my hair, my mane.
This is a charade
A dastardly trick played by time.
My barrettes no longer strain
to hold my heavy tresses. Instead
they slip, fall away and are lost.
Ribbons, too, fail to stay in place.
Scarves may hide but not replace
The thick richness of my yesteryears.
Today in my mirror I see only
The lank and sparce remains.
This is not my hair, my mane.
This is a charade,
A dastardly trick played by time.
A DREAMER TARRIES
The delicate wheels of fairyland
Spin around and around
The dreamer tarries whenever
He hears that sudden sound
Of music
GRANDMA ROXBY
Once again she is packing up
Another year, gone—
Pregnant, nursing,
With toddlers clinging
To her skirt,
She is moving once again.
Every year another town
Another babe
Through coal-dusted years
Including the short stay
In the one room, dirt floored
Residence provided
By the masters of coal
Till she refuses to stay put
Just this once.
At last a year passed
With no new birth,
Though she grows big
The next year and every
Two years thereafter–
Eleven boys, four girls.
Finally, after the last is born,
They settle in a lasting home.
Of the fifteen some marry,
Some die too soon.
Some live with her
Some live far away.
One brought her his diploma
After high school graduation.
But all return annually
Drawn by love of family,
The love instilled by her.
AUTHOR NOTES
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“A DREAMER TARRIES” originally had no title; however, the website manager supplied this as it seemed appropriate. Music and fairies often appear in the author’s poems, a reflection of her early childhood. The poem, possibly an idea for a longer poem, was found among the author’s papers written on the back of an envelope.
REFRACTIONS –an essay by Kathleen Roxby
“GRANDMA ROXBY” was inspired by the author’s interview with her father to establish the start of a family tree. The project resulted in an incomplete tree, for her father did not have all the answers, of which she made several copies to send to an upcoming family reunion which the author would not be able to attend. This “tree” project was a success and inspired the family to do further research. The author always called this grandmother by the poem’s title to distinguish her from the author’s maternal grandmother who lived with the author during much of her childhood while Grandma Roxby lived three thousand miles away. This selection is included for September 10, Grandparents’ Day.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“AN OLD WOMAN’S HAIR” was inspired by several older women the author met or knew during her youth. Her own grandmother had short gray hair when the author was born, but later showed the author a braid of her chestnut brown hair which was kept in the cedar chest where her grandmother kept other memories. That keepsake is the real inspiration for this poem.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.
Guidelines for submission: