“Nothing gold can stay.”
Robert Frost
“Ô, Sunlight! The most precious gold to be found on Earth.”
― Roman Payne
For the past couple of months, I’ve been awestruck by the golden tones of autumn. I don’t know if the color is unusual this year or if I’m simply more tuned in or more willing to be swept away. Regardless, over and over, I’ve been stopped in my tracks by varying tones of gold.
Autumn Gold
Gold dazzles in autumn.
It skims the river
and shimmers in luminous fog.
Gold whispers
in the rustle of marsh grasses
and in the quivering heart
of the gilded maple.
Gold can be brassy and bold
or soft and tawny.
It collects in the eye of a blackbird,
creeps along craggy stone walls,
knits patchwork quilts
on the wide boards
of an old pine floor.
Gold bookends the days,
rising in greeting,
then spilling from windows
on dark winter nights
to welcome you home.
Gold promises.
Gold delivers.
Gold takes my breath away.
©Molly Hogan, 2020 (draft)
This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted at Teacher Dance by Linda Baie. Be sure to stop by to check out the bounty of poems and poetry-related posts.
Finally, I’m sending you off with one of my all-time favorite golden songs– Eva Cassidy’s rendition of “Fields of Gold.”
Nix the comfort zone 
Molly – Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, and then some. Your poem and these pictures. [And one of my FAVorite songs, though I’m partial to Sting… ;0) ] So many stunning images you share, with gold that “collects in the eye of a blackbird” and “bookends the days.”
You get lots of gold stars today!!!
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Thanks, Robyn! It was a particularly golden autumn here. (PS–I can’t believe you prefer Sting’s version! lol)
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Molly, wow! I love your poem! Your poem, photos, and rendition of “Fields of Gold” are stunning! Through the song I kept thinking I know this song. When I saw Robyn’s comment it clicked. Now, I’ve been listening to different versions of the beautiful song and I’ll probably have it in my head for days. I had forgotten it; it’s perfect with your poem and photos!
Your alliteration in your poem makes it sound like a song. All your verbs are amazing and awakened my senses. “Gold whispers in the rustle
of marsh grasses and in the quivering heart of the gilded maple.” ,
“collects in the eye of a blackbird, creeps along craggy stone walls,
knits patchwork quilts” , and “bookends” really stood out for me. Thank you so much for all of your gifts that brought me happiness. Happy Thanksgiving.
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What a lovely comment, Gail! Thanks for taking the time to point out some of what worked for you. I hope you enjoy revisiting “Fields of Gold”–it’s a favorite of mine!
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What a lovely golden walk. I love the personification of gold.
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Molly! What a gorgeous poem….yes to what gold does. Your photographs are perfect illustrations for your stanzas. I really do think you are already writing books. Stunning work, “collects in the eye of a blackbird,’ And, “Gold promises.
Gold delivers.
Gold takes my breath away.”
I find myself saying, me too, me too, me too.
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Thanks, Linda! I love the startling color of bird eyes and the gold of the blackbird’s just pops. Dazzling!
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“Nothing gold can stay.” Robert Frost Are you up on your reading of S.E. Hinton’s The Outsider? She being a teenager when she wrote this classic. Ponyboy quotes the line to talk about youth. And a great film.
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I hate to admit it, but I’ve never read “The Outsider.” Maybe in 2021?
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And one more thing. Gold delivers! And so does your poetry. Ever just randomly post a poem of yours in your classroom and see who notices? There’re fourth graders who would love your stuff.
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I haven’t done this, though sometimes I share what I’ve written at Writing Club after school. I was thinking it might be fun to post a “What I’m Writing” bulletin board in lieu of the more typical “What I’m Reading” one. You’ve reminded me to revisit that idea!
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Like Dan above, I wondered, too, about the Frost quote & The Outsiders, but most important is the ‘gold’ you’ve given us in your post, Molly. I always love your pictures with your poems, beautiful connections, need to be a book with pairings! Sometimes in my dining room, the sun hits just right: “knits patchwork quilts
on the wide boards
of an old pine floor.” Beautiful! Thank you!
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sun+old pine=magic! Like honeyed comfort!
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Your golden poem and pictures shine, Molly. I, too, seem to be more “tuned in” this autumn (the state of the world?), and have notice that “Gold bookends the days” more than every before.
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Beautiful! I’ve been struck by golden color this year also. Thanks for your poem and all the photos… loved it.
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Writing posts that combine my photos and poems is one of my favorite things to do! I’m glad you enjoyed the combo 🙂
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