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heaven's tears -

a rainy day announces

Le roy's passing

© gillena cox 2021

Condolences to the family and friends of Artist/Poet Le roy Clarke [November 1938 - July 2021]

❧✿❧

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Flowers/Floral

Tag 2: image first posted HERE

REVISIT

20 July 2019

20 July 2018

20 June 2013

LeRoy Clarke - Legacy of THE CHIEF

Condolences

Golden Wattle: internet image

September in Australia
GRAY Winter hath gone, like a wearisome guest,
And, behold, for repayment,
September comes in with the wind of the West
And the Spring in her raiment!
The ways of the frost have been filled of the flowers,
While the forest discovers
Wild wings, with the halo of hyaline hours,
And a music of lovers.

September, the maid with the swift silver feet!
She glides, and she graces
The valleys of coolness, the slopes of the heat,
With her blossomy traces;
Sweet month, with a mouth that is made of a rose,
She lightens and lingers
In spots where the harp of the evening glows,
Attuned by her fingers.

The stream from its home in the hollow hill slips
In a darling old fashion;
And the day goeth down with a song on its lips
Whose key-note is passion;
Far out in the fierce, bitter front of the sea
I stand, and remember
Dead things that were brothers and sisters of thee,
Resplendent September.

The West, when it blows at the fall of the noon
And beats on the beaches,
So filled with a tender and tremulous tune
That touches and teaches;
The stories of Youth, of the burden of Time,
And the death of Devotion,
Come back with the wind, and are themes of the rhyme
In the waves of the ocean.

We, having a secret to others unknown,
In the cool mountain-mosses,
May whisper together, September, alone
Of our loves and our losses.
One word for her beauty, and one for the place
She gave to the hours;
And then we may kiss her, and suffer her face
To sleep with the flowers.
High places that knew of the gold and the white
On the forehead of Morning
Now darken and quake, and the steps of the Night
Are heavy with warning!
Her voice in the distance is lofty and loud
Through its echoing gorges;
She hath hidden her eyes in a mantle of cloud,
And her feet in the surges!

On the tops of the hills, on the turreted cones—
Chief temples of thunder—
The gale, like a ghost, in the middle watch moans,
Gliding over and under.
The sea, flying white through the rack and the rain,
Leapeth wild at the forelands;
And the plover, whose cry is like passion with pain,
Complains in the moorlands.

Oh, season of changes—of shadow and shine—
September the splendid!
My song hath no music to mingle with thine,
And its burden is ended;
But thou, being born of the winds and the sun,
By mountain, by river,
May lighten and listen, and loiter and run,
With thy voices forever.
-- September in Australia; by Henry Clarence Kendall (1841–82)


Condolences to the family and friends of Haiku poet of Australia - Janice M. Bostok(1942 -2011)who died peacefully in the Murwillumbah Hospital on Sunday afternoon, September 4

early spring mist —
in the valley the clatter
of milking pails
--Janice Bostok

Spliced In Day 28

I heard yesterday evening of the passing on Monday of haiku poet Betty Kaplan; my sympathies to family and friends; Dear lady; the haiku community mourns your passing

During the month of July There will be featured here at Lunch Break haiku related essays; original copyright remains with the websites and to their respective writers.


Spliced In - Day 28

...It is also important to think of Haiku as being built with images. Solid, concrete, images as opposed to abstractions. For instance “teardrop” is concrete, as opposed to the word “sad” which is abstract. The image should call the intent of the
poet into the imagination of the reader, who should then be able to feel it and experience it for themselves. To use the often over-used maxim; haiku should show not tell...:...


Read the essay The Art of Haiku by Lou Freshwater

Condolences