Beneath An Autumn Moon The Poem

By skinner_jennifer

Tue, 21 Sep 2021
  • 2540 reads
18 comments
 

This is a poem about Ciciley in old age, when having no idea exactly how old she is, but aware of how close the time is coming when she joins her parents.

 

 

 

 

Autumn's cold visions keep flowing,

water appearing alive in old woman's

seclusion, island inhabited only by

birds and other land creatures.

 

Moorland bracken tumbles over rocks

and running streams, breathing life

Into golden sweeping hills.

 

Openings in crags where rabbits burrow,

some caught off guard quickly try to hide

from danger, but are flicked and gently

gathered up for food with claws by diving eagle.

 

Does owl in copse surface from mysterious sleep?

Billowed wings emerging...half awake as emotive

whispers call to the wild requesting their bidding.

 

Old Ciciley nonspeaking kneels at water's edge,

gazes at her reflection once more, traces lines

that age binds to echoes of a hard life,

but fulfilled;

 

cool minted eyes sparkling as she hears chirp of

greeting up in oak tree. Song thrush sings of

positive aspirations, to be sanguine in facing

despondency that lurks in shadows.

 

Apples fall between splayed limbs weakened over

time, they reside half forgotten on fallen carpeted

leaves in gathering rain, where fruit's consumed

by crow and blackbird staving off hunger.

 

Rarely did Ciciley mourn, but on this day she needed

to venerate a place of respect. Contained tears now

evolved...not such a bad thing when sad memories

concerned with death weighed heavily on her mind.

 

Now thrice smudging a circle, fast binding a plaiting

of grey hair, mantle wrapped around shoulders, old

mind reflecting goodness of both living and dead,

where footsteps not seen, her ancestors once trod.

 

Thoughts now slightly damaged recalling arriving

on this island, with heart beating fast on this fertile

land, gazing out to sea, mute of mouth; eyes of hazy

expression only her mother and father understood.

 

Ciciley is not dumb, just refuses to speak after passing

of her family. She lights torch to show the way where

souls are flowing, lets their chant be heard in ripples

of water stirring.

 

Old woman opens up stiffly to a dance with both

charisma and drama, weaved into this spell that

knots her attention; the drawing up entwined in

memories that are secure.

 

That morning when out walking Ciciley took

plant cuttings, all herbs blessed with thanks,

then gifted back of goats milk and seeds;

 

later back in her kitchen with its stone walls,

she sits by fire snipping rosemary in candlelight;

to pound with rest of ingredients for her warming

supper of broth.

 

She binds to the echoes of her past, thyme greets

memories of cliff tops high, in untamed seclusion

growing closer in mind. Peacefully fingers twirl,

a touch of confidence radiates in her world.

 

Old woman meditates holding blessed amulet,

asking that wise bird of prey will fly down her

welcoming path this day;

 

invocations transient will be carried on breeze;

as owl swooping in through yawning door,

comes to land on windowsill once more.

 

Blessings brief will drift in this night, maybe

in balls of light; as moon streams through

open window, Ciciley will dream tonight;

her mother and father will come in flight,

 

not by water or earth – but on wings collecting

her sleeping spirit, bringing peace again to this

vision island beneath an Autumn moon.

 

Pixabay free image.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Certificate U
Poem
Poems
Spiritual
Nature
Love

Comments

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

I haven't read the story yet Jenny, but this is beautiful. One thing:

Openings in crags where rabbits burrow,

some fatuous quickly try to hide from danger,

I'm not sure fatuous is the right word, but can't think what to suggest - sorry!

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi insert, I've changed the wording to: 'caught off guard.' I hope that's more fitting.

Thank you so much for reading and helping me out, much appreciated. I'm glad you liked and appreciate you letting me know.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I'm much obliged to you for your in depth comment Trevor. I did have a lot of fun inventing this story, and of course white witches are a subject that's very close to my heart. I did have a beautiful picture to put on, which I based the story around,  but the measurements were all wrong and it wouldn't work, which was such a shame as I didn't know until I'd already written this piece.

I think Ciciley felt blessed that she'd avoided death, and became happy enough with the animals on the island. She was also a loner as she aged and felt relieved not having to explain her beliefs. But I suppose that's just the way I imagined her in my mind.

Any way many thanks for reading, it's always great to hear from you.

Jenny. 

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Your Cicely must have had a very strong spirit to keep going when her parents passed, though I wonder, if grief is like a tide that's high when you first lose someone, then ebbs as you come to terms with it in order to keep going, then as you grow older it comes back in up the sands of time, like the sea coming to carry you to the same place.

You describe someone with a full and calm mind, not  part of nature but accepted as a respectful guest.

In my imagination I wish I could be self sufficient like Cicely, spiritually as well as practically, but as I panic when the supermarket doesn't have stuff two days in a row, or my computer crashes, I wouldn't manage five minutes :0) But I enjoyed reading about her very much

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi there again Trevor,

I really agree with you about that word tread, so I changed it to trod. Thank you so much for your help.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hello Di,

you know I tried to imagine how someone of that era would feel, and Germany seemed like a good place to start.  I was going to use the Salem witches as an example of those times, but decided against it in the end.

I'm exactly the same as you as far as worrying when things don't work, although I've got worse the older I become. I'm lucky that my partner is also a great help to me, he calms me down when I panic, so for that I'm very grateful.

I suppose Ciciley is a kind of Hedge Witch...that is a witch who keeps herself to herself and doesn't feel the need to be surrounded by people, but learns all she needs from her ancestors, who have passed all the information down in a book of shadows, a bit like a recipe book of magical healing.

Wouldn't it be great to be completely self sufficient like Ciciley, to be able to cure all ills and be healthy and strong, not with chemicals, but with natural healing properties? "If only!" 

You're right about life after loosing a loved one, you never forget or stop missing that person, but just come to terms with the fact life is important and try to learn to move on. I believe we all have guardians watching over us, it's just a case of putting trust in them and asking for help when needed, but also giving thanks when life treats you well.

Wow! I seem to be getting very deep. So I'll close for now. Thanks always for your in depth comment Di, always enjoy reading your comments.

Jenny.

 

 

 

Submitted by marandina on

Some beautiful imagery in here and a haunting story. As always, some wonderful lines. This also made a great short story in prose form. So many aspects and a touching, intriguing series of events. You could actually add to the story, quite easily. Paul

 

Submitted by jeand on

Hi Jenny

what a delightful story poem.  I enjoyed reading it.

Jean Day

Submitted by lenchenelf on

...reading, a peep into Cecilys' world.

Best wishes

Lx

 

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Thank you so much for reading and your kind words Paul.

I really only wanted to write a poem, which is how the story started off. Then I thought to myself, I need to explain how Ciciley got to this island in old age, otherwise the poem wouldn't have been fully understood, so decided to do a long prologue. I'm glad it worked for you and to know you wanted more, is great, though I think I'll put this one to bed, as I spent a lot of hours working on it.

Many thanks again.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Jean,

what a delight to know you enjoyed reading Jean.

I'm so grateful for your comment.

Many thanks.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Maddalena...by the way I love your name. 

After reading your wonderful poem, I can understand how you would enjoy Ciciley's world. I think a part of her resides in many of us.

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts.

Jenny. x

 

Submitted by hilary west on

Hi Jenny,

This is a beautiful poem, full of delights. I loved 'cool, minted eyes'

hilary  smiley

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Hilary, it was wonderful that you picked up on minted eyes, It felt appropriate as they were green, and it was nice to have the connection with nature.

Thank you for your kind words, always appreciated.

Jenny. smiley

 

 

Submitted by Hades502 on

Hello Jenny, another very well-written poem. Great job. It's shame this didn't get you any cherries. Some great lines that I could envision the scene before me. I really dug: "Moorland bracken tumbles over rocks."

GGHades502

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi there Hades, I'm so glad you enjoyed reading this poem. The moorland bracken did appeal to me too, so I was grateful that you too liked.

As far as cherries go, I know that witchy writing can be a sore subject, and doesn't appeal to all. I'm just so grateful for the response by you and other readers, so thank you so much for your comment which I appreciated.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Turlough on

I love this Jenny. Your words remind me of so many elderly people I have known who spend the autumn years of their lives living alone, speaking to no one because they neither want to dwell upon more eventful times in the past nor discuss what awaits them in the approaching winter years. The solitude suggests sadness but often they are happy to live with their memories. Realising that I have more behind me than ahead of me I sometimes feel a little bit this way myself.

Turlough

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Turlough,

I'm in total agreement with you on the subject of old age, though I myself now a pensioner still do like to bore people with my memories, with those who will listen of course. smiley

You come across as someone who has lived a full life, which is so exciting to hear about. 

I really do appreciate your kind and understanding thoughts on this poem.

Many thanks for reading.

Jenny.