The Harried Mystic

1

Oblique light brings the slide to shorter days, and clothes get gradually thicker,

Words are said of days now past, and people report being sicker.

2

Electoral heat replaces warmth of the sun,

While pumpkins and ghouls sporting candy have fun.

3

On hay-rides,  in corn mazes, and alongside the streets,

Our children are laughing, and seeking their treats.

4

Vineyards in harvest and tastings abound,

A hunt for fine notes, soft, buttery and round.

5

Spirit imbues everything, grapes, air, food and fire,

Listen very softly to the Orphean Lyre.

6

We are called every second to embrace and breath deep,

Into warm arms and tenderness, we are invited to leap.

7

Joy’s on the wind, all souls being fed,

Mums all around me, white, yellow, and red.

8

Purple, amber, blends familiar, and some exceedingly  rare,

Bouquets of consolation, imagination’s holy fare.

© Brother Anton and The Harried Mystic, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.