My Autumn Ballerina

Summary

The website content is a poetic tribute to Autumn personified as a ballerina, celebrating the season's beauty and its transformative nature.

Abstract

The text is an evocative poem that describes Autumn as a captivating ballerina, draped in the rich colors of red, orange, and yellow, dancing to the rhythm of the changing seasons. It paints a vivid picture of the season's stillness and the lullaby of falling leaves, symbolizing a dance of life and decay. Autumn is not depicted as an end but as a transition, where the Earth slows down and nature prepares for a period of rest. The poem conveys a deep affection for the season, acknowledging its melancholy yet embracing its enchanting beauty and the cycle of renewal it represents.

Opinions

Autumn is portrayed as a living entity, a "mistress of death and dying," who is both mesmerizing and melancholic.
The author expresses a profound love for Autumn, admiring its dance and the transformation it brings.
The poem suggests that the beauty of Autumn is in its ability to lull the world into a peaceful slumber, with its cool breezes and fiery colors.
There is a sense of nostalgia and reflection in the poem, as Autumn's song is described as one of "yesterday and what-used-to-be."
The imagery of leaves as tiny dancers and the Earth's exhale suggests a deep connection between the speaker and the natural world's cycles.

DEP Fall Contest

Photo by Ruvim; edited by Natalie Gasper

There’s a stillness in the trees, erupting with scarlet and marigold, that wasn’t here in June. The wind no longer invigorates, but lulls, whispering a song of cold and sleep.

Can you hear her?

The sweet lullaby of Autumn, a being of mist and leaves and fire, lulling the forest to sleep with a whoosh and a sigh.

My enchanting mistress, my lady of slow goodbyes.

Autumn isn’t death, but a dance. She dresses in rich red, sunburst orange, vibrant yellow. The earth exhales a cool breeze, slowing its heartbeat in time to her footsteps as she leaps and twirls and sings her haunting melody.

Her voice weaves a song of yesterday and what-used-to-be.

Delicate leaves shake free from a willow’s lazy arms, twirled upon the wind like a thousand tiny dancers. Autumn kicks her bare foot into the air, starting a flameless bonfire across the treetops. Each leaf a new shade for her dress, the wind a somber chill to match her melancholy.

Her lullaby calls to me at night, a song of fire and change.

My lovely ballerina, fire made song, she sweeps her train across the ground to a tune only she can hear, her heartbeat ever slowing, stealing life with a pirouette and a tombé.

Is it strange to say I love her, this mistress of death and dying?

You taught me my love is only sleeping, a slumber deep and sure, beyond my grasp but not beyond my dreams, where our souls can meet, dancing in time to your solemn lullaby.

POETRY I FALL I LOSS

My Autumn Ballerina

DEP Fall Contest