On This Hill

Following my venture into Autumn Poetry as it were, I wanted to continue but add a little Love Poetry to this. But as of yet I am unsure if this has worked as I wished it to be. But still today’s Poem is One of a Love Poem, in the setting of an autumn backdrop as it were. I am still stuck in experimenting on Composing Poetry and how it both appears and looks. Thus my being unsure about todays Poem as of yet.

About The Poem:

As we venture into Autumn here, I wanted to keep with this theme for a little further and compose a poem that Both carried a love Poem and a Poem of the Autumn Season within the lines of that same poem. I would hope and wish that this has worked, But I will let the readers decide of this one.

The Autumn Time is a wonderful time to walk about in the silent wooded areas, where Leaves now begin to fall and cover the ground with a colourful display, thus helped in it’s display with a Late Summer burst of Sunshine that helps to paint the picture.

A picture of where a season dies or passes on to a new s eason of Autumn, Which a colourful display has changed from it’s summer brightness to the crispy, crunchy display of this coming season. Adding to this a Love theme and a Love tale as it were should add to this taste for a little Poetic reading.

Having said all of this, Please Enjoy this Poem:

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(( The above Photograph was taken from an outside source and posted
here with thanks and as always Copyrite remains with those who carried
out such great work ))

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       On this Hill



In the Autumn sun, Love burns still,
Past the streams that once had their fill.
With hair like flames that sparkled bright,
And golden leaves that crunched right.


Love burns deep in the hearts that keep,
Doors open for Loves breeze to creep.
To the hands intertwined with Love,
What then can hide Thus from above.


This true love sweeter than Honey,
For Love of money can be funny.  
But the bees that sweeten the taste,
Know the tune birds sing, has faced.


Yet leaves that rustle under foot,
Join in the sounds that no one put,
Paths to Love’s chair and leave me there,
The wind whispers low, of this I share.


For Love's fire glows, Like this sun's rays,
On the leaves that lay about these days.
Golden slumber, Autumn days Fill,
A heart that dances on this hill.



© Pat Fitzgerald 2024

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ENDING THOUGHTS:

Thank you for following me on this journey, that is composing and creating poetry. If Life is a journey which we all walk on, then my journey in creating Poetry is a journey of it’s own. Which I still learn much on as I write.

At times I experiment on methods or way how I can improve my poetry, therefore getting feedback is always most welcome for such as these.

When I write poetry, some readers may be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. BUT I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.

But Poetry is a form of art work that I enjoy and thus using it in a manner to touch or inspire the reader.

I would like to Pass on my thanks to you for joining me on this journey.

Poetry is a learning curve where I always strive to improve. Often due to the speed of my typing and a few other issues, mistakes and typos will find their way into published posts. I continue to work on improving this as I move along. One such change is how I have been writing and how my poetry appears in relation to how the rest of the blog appears. So much work goes into editing and reediting and then repeating that process on a number of occasions until i am happy with the result.

Please forgive for any such mistakes and for your understanding this.

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Until Next Time Cheers. 

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