Towards Autumn Poem by Martin Ward

In Derbyshire,
we call it 'backendish: '
a time when summer
reluctantly runs to fall.
Triathlon of seasons,
transitioning into
a Personal Best.
Summer, cooling off
from heated, heady days
and winter introducing itself.
The year ripens,
culminating in vivid colours
and perchance for melancholy,
although I don't know why.
Time to move on:
Aucun Regret.'
A new suitor calls
and woos us
with baskets of fruit
and late flowers.
Showers, no longer welcome,
as ardors cool
amidst the morning
and early evening mists.
Some children prepare
for alien Halloween,
or older ones
remember Bonfire Night:
'Penny for The Guy'
or a penny for fading thoughts.
Lady Autumn: moving too fast
to be a season in limbo.
I love her too much
to ignore her; captivating
in that vibrant orange dress,
yet wistful as cousin winter,
nonetheless.
We seem to go
into overdrive;
scuttling around
in time for harvest,
as the hope of Christmas beckons.
Another year draws near.
Hear the bugle call
of remembrance
and preparation
for things to come
as we head towards autumn.