Autumn landscape by Thomas Cole‘Autumn Sonnet’ by David Whippman The Society October 7, 2019 Beauty, Poetry 10 Comments This season’s colours will be brown and gold Fading to sepia, like a photograph. The leaves, still splendid, are already old, Their richness is a kind of aftermath. This, like all seasons, is a time of change. The new awaits, the old must pass away. But this is autumn’s theme, however strange: Beauty is interwoven with decay. For trees, for people, autumn time arrives. Nature or Man, this law affects us all; We all must reach the autumn of our lives. Cities and empires, like the leaves, must fall. This is the tint of autumn, briefly there— The shade between elation and despair. David Whippman is a British poet, now retired after a career in healthcare. Over the years he’s had quite a few poems, articles and short stories published in various magazines. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who harasses or disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comment or comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 10 Responses David Watt October 8, 2019 Hello David. The sense of autumnal colours and seasonal progression both come through strongly in your sonnet. My personal preference would be to reduce the occurrence of the word ‘this’ from five down to four. I have sometimes found myself repeating a word, when a substitution would serve the purpose equally as well. For example, “But this is autumn’s theme, however strange:” could be: “Though autumn’s theme may seem a little strange:” I must also mention that your closing couplet is particularly well done. Reply dave Whippman October 11, 2019 Hi David. Thanks for the feedback. I didn’t notice the repetition of “this” but you make a fair point. Reply Theresa Rodriguez October 8, 2019 Thank you, David, for this beautiful sonnet. I can relate very much to the sentiments in it because I, too, have been writing lately about the “autumn” or “fall” of life and the changes and realities that come with age and aging. Well done! Reply dave Whippman October 11, 2019 Thanks Theresa. I suppose it’s an inexhaustible theme – the changing seasons paralleled as we ourselves age. Reply C.B. Anderson October 8, 2019 David, this poem was well conceived, and I don’t mind the -graph/-math rhyme. Fricatives are fricatives, whether labial or dental. But growing (or being) old really sucks — where is all the damn gold?! Reply dave Whippman October 11, 2019 Thanks for the feedback CB. I must admit I am more lax about rhymes than I used to be. In the past, I might have beaten myself up about graph/math. Now I’m too old to care. So growing old does have advantages! Reply C Marx October 9, 2019 This is beautiful and evocative and the slightly sombre atmosphere it creates is very moving. Reply dave Whippman October 11, 2019 Thanks sir. Sometimes I find rhyme and metre can get in the way of content, but in this poem – maybe more by luck than judgement – it worked out. Reply T.M. October 11, 2019 “But this is autumn’s theme, however strange: Beauty is interwoven with decay.” That line froze me. It reminds me of the paintings of Andrew Wyeth, how he found so much beauty in things no one else would look twice at. And that’s one of the things I like best about fall – it gets your attention and makes you look at familiar things in a new way, to discover the beauty that’s there all the time. Great poem, Dave. Reply dave Whippman October 12, 2019 Thanks TM. You are right; we miss so much through our fixed expectations. And also there is the knowledge, unwelcome perhaps, that everything in this world must perish in the end. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.