Friday, November 30, 2012

Veneta Donaldson: The Language of Autumn

Untitled oil painting by C.L. Donaldson
all rights reserved

Here's another autumn poem by my aunt, with a decidedly different mood.  The painting is one of her husband's, which hung in her house for as long as I can remember.

The Language of Autumn
by Veneta Donaldson

Autumn's swirling leaves imprinted by the winds
Upon the darkening sky above the town
Proclaimed the age-old change the season lends
In earthy volumes of gold and brown.

I heard the haunting voice of the sterling oak
That stands so strong, so proud and gallant still—
Bereft of beauty, alone, and yet it spoke
Of cherished days upon the wind-blown hill.

I heard the willow softly crying there
As tho' its heart could find no peace or rest
Until the resurrecting, springtime air
Touched it gently again upon the breast.

The language of Autumn is clear to me—
I understand the oak bereft of charm.
My heart is one with the weeping willow true—
I too fear Winter's irrevocable harm.

This is part of a group of poems by Veneta Donaldson. A brief bio and the beginning of the series can be found here: Veneta Donaldson: A Poet in the Family.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Thanksgiving Dinner, 2012

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving or harvest celebration.  The table cloth in the picture came from my grandmother, who embroidered it and crocheted around the edges.  She used it every year during the holiday season, and so do I.  Here's this year's menu for three--vegetarian, as always.

Jellied Cranberry Sauce (for Michael)

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Veneta Donaldson: "God's Artistry"

Autumn Sunset in Texas

Here's another one of my Aunt's lovely autumnal poems. She was a lover of beauty, always grateful for its abundance in nature.

God's Artistry
by Veneta Donaldson

I walked among Thy woods today
Seeking nature's beauty so free;
And lightened was my weary way
By yon copper-burnished tree
With its flame of color splashed
Against Thy canvas of bright sky;
Deep within my breast there flashed
One long, heart-rending sigh.
God, by Thy grace may I impart
This moment of Thy artistry,
So that another humble heart
Adoring it may worship Thee.

This is part of a group of poems by Veneta Donaldson. A brief bio and the beginning of the series can be found here: Veneta Donaldson: A Poet in the Family.