Day 8 of NaPoWriMo and today’s Prompt is to write a poem that relies on repetition. It can be repetition of a phrase, or just a word.
Bitter cold, something blue, left the world pale,
Yet my heart melted, melted like in an Indian Summer.
Left us helpless, lips tied down, the winter hues,
Reminded me of the time, The time I played,
Played my song in the Indian Summer.
The winter’s melody, I get them none, My blood
Iced, may stop running, Evil and Fierce, You offered me,
You offered me a cup of coffee, nothing mushy,
Melted me down, down like the Indian Summer,
That Indian Summer where the children laughed, With merry,
Where the Sun showed its grace, I sit on the Rope Tree Swing,
Swoosh, Swoosh, Back and Forward and back and forward.
That Mid November. That Indian Summer.
Damaged my plants, that killing frost,
I missed that gold hue, That gold hue which is no more,
That gold hue, during the one Indian Summer When,
Grandma made lemonade, Sipped down, Chilled down,
That Indian Summer, When we fell in love, love with the beaches.
Where We waltzed, Waltzed our way, through the Indian Summer.
But now the Blue-Jay calls, crowned head, King of the frost,
Aggressive, Slowly Spreading its wings, He now sees,
Sees between those smoky mountains, Through the forest,
Where the first ray of light hit the ground, It was time,
Time of the youth, time of love, time of joy, It was time,
The sun painted the sky orange, red, yellow, green, he splashed,
Splashed some colour onto my soul, Chestnut fragrances the world below,
September, brought its delight, the harvested delight, And I knew,
I knew it was that time of glory. That time for Indian Summer.
-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair