Upon The Sill Poem by Edmund V. Strolis
Upon The Sill
Upon my sill, my kitchen sill
The window to a westward view
Sits a memory of warmer days
Of summer closing for the season
I stole from nature a gem for me
Of seeds exposed but not set free
There the season frozen in time
A milkweed husk of silk treasure
No wind to ease them from the hull
The yawning seam arrested now
Still awaiting that never moment
Dreaming of adventure
Chocolate drops with wispy hair
Nestled in their timeless slipper
Waiting for the autumn breeze
Within the stillness of my winter.
Beautiful image set to words...an ekphrastic ecstasy (just like the sound of that!) . I like how you evoked the image, but imbued it with the depth and meaning only a poem can give. I love that way you set that pod on the precipice of animation, but without the ability to move...yet. Well done.
Good to hear from you Jette Blackstone your name reminds me of the character in Ray Bradbury's novel Something wicked this way comes. Jim Nightshade. Thanks for the insights that are so unique to you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/1/2024 3:25:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like this too, Edmund! Good accompanying picture—did you take it? This reminds me there are so many treasures in nature—like the Milky Way—so many stars clustered together we can’t distinguish them. Consider, for the flow, the meter, silken instead of silk at the end of the second stanza. -Glen
Greetings Glenn, I was telling a friend recently of how eager I am for retirement. To spend my days in blissful contemplation of the world around me. I am weary of the distraction of the clock. Feeling I guess, like those seeds frozen in time upon my sill. The image is not mine although it is a near perfect representation of the pod upon my sill. SILKEN! was a perfect catch, leaving me to wonder just how it is that I missed that meter! What a difference such a change makes.