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.

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.

Pumpkin Soup

Holiday Nut Loaf

Maple-Pecan Fried Slaw

Whole Cranberry Sauce

Jellied Cranberry Sauce (for Michael)

Sparkling Apple Juice
Sage Gravy
Cream Cheese-Maple Pumpkin Pie

Coffee

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.