Christmas Eve Eve Eve - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Christmas Eve Eve Eve

 

Winter arrives, they say, at 8:31

And how do they know? The light doesn’t change

The soft pale light filtering through the fog

Upon the grey-brown fields who have fallen asleep

 

While we speak of lockdowns and rollbacks and deaths

And plan for the least-attended Christmas Mass

The fields and forests hardly speak at all

Only in their prayerful whispers of the Eternal

 

Time is  told to us by the sun, moon, and stars -

And all the seasons arrive in God’s good time

Arc of the Solstice - poem

Lawrence Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

Arc of the Solstice

High summer’s solstice is the year’s proud crown:
The sun has reached his apogee, and now
Will linger through July’s life-ripening days
Then drift into a worn Augustan gold

September is a sort of seasonal coup
Who in the equinoctial treaty signs
For a slow dissolution of the sun
And all his ancient power to rule and reign

In his old age the sun is seldom seen –
Diana, then, is crowned as winter’s queen