It’s that time of the year again. Clocks have gone back, the temperature is beginning to drop and we are all bracing ourselves for winter. The landscape is unrecognisable from the bright summer days, yet every season has its magic and its mood. Autumn, a sensitive time for nostalgia, for poring over memories by an open fire, for meditation; a season which John Keats has indelibly marked forever as a time for poetry. And so we are pleased today to present a new poem by our dear friend, Molly Rosenberg.
Through ruby red
Like us the magnificence of beauty
reaches its crescendo,
as the array of colours overwhelms
the Ravensbourne Valley.
It takes my breath away.
So short a time like our youth
Beauty turned to nuisance now
like us when our purpose is served,
all will be swept away.
The sharpness of the air pricks
I wrap myself in the softness
Relish the feeling of summer feet
now clad in suede as I tread
lightly through these
golden autumn days.