warm socks at first frost
I love the prospect of warm socks at first frost
and the soldier-like look of them in neat rows
as they line up before me
next to the French-milled soaps
in the second dresser drawer
where they have bunkered
since the daffodils bloomed.
A colorful assemblage, they
in vibrant vermillion,
or sumptuous grey,
or azure- multi-hued,
patiently waiting to be tapped
for duty.
I am dancing now in the hours after donning
the Carolina Blue pair,
with my tweeds and outdoor duds,
cashmere caressing my lucky toes,
I am royalty lifted above the fray
simply to stroll
Doc Silver's nippy back forty
as if it were a mild midsummer's day
but better: no insects or tall grasses where the
slithering creatures play-
just the Land
and, here and there,
on the north side of the ridge,
slender watery threads making icicles
from summer's sweet cascades.
October's fallen leaves,
still wet with yesterday's storm,
are slick on the trail.
Still, I float along, scarf flying,
hiking boots, muddy and well-worn,
with feet smiling in blue-clad luxury.
We are searching for the last wild berries,
you and I, and beneath these,
you unearth the secret:
"... cherished toes pay dividends uncounted...."
~^~ jA Narrin, Wind-in-the-Feather The Spirit Ridge Collection Asheville, 2009
JaneAnne,
This is a beautiful post. Your great artistic mind at work as the Asheville winter starts to settle in around you, eh?
cherished toes pay dividends uncounted
Jane~
Happy to meet you...I have a sense that you "feel" the poetry of the Land, too . . .
Dave~
Once again, you bring that phrase that ties it all together. Thank you!
jA,
...makes me miss Ashville!
Mike in Tucson
jA: Your composition? That's great writing.
Here's a pic of what it was like on my little bit of Red River heaven. I was out hog hunting. Heard them, saw signs, but in the thick underbrush, couldn't see them.
Anyway, a bad day's hunting beats almost anything. Here's a shot of some of what I was looking at Saturday afternoon:
This was taken on my phone's camera, so the resolution and colors are a bit off. The sun was just hitting the crest of the red oak and setting the leaves on fire!
janeAnne, I can feel the blue cashmere hugging my toes! Love the poem.
JaneAnne - Love the poem.... .This is a contest I will have to pass on... unless I can write the poem in Chinese :-)
JaneAnne - You are truly a master with words. I feel your sentiment and emotion through your choice of words.
I want to wear your socks today...they have so much color and mine are just a dull gray ....
Mike~
Let me know if/when you will return to Asheville...and walk the Land...
Mike in North TX~
Thanks for the photo. I got enamored with your phrase, "sun was just hitting the crest of the red oak and setting the leaves on fire!" It may inspire a bit o' verse....Possibly hunt with your camera? With your eye, i imagine great shots...
Patricia~
Blue cashmere suits YOU...=)
Hi Sylvia~
Go for it~!~~ It's all about being in a space of pure potential...
Laura~
Send o poem of your own on over to the POETS Group..and thank you so much for your kind words.
Mary~
HoHo~~!!
on the socks, ya' know
YOU must be a poet
I can tell from the note you wrote
sure would like a verse from you...