Autumn evocation: A poem for the turning seasons

Not about the referendum! This was written for an event to mark the autumn equinox, this weekend. As with everything else, still draft really :)

Turns the year, turns the wheel

Scents linger, rose and honeysuckle

and perfumed herbs, now flowering,

late summer blossoms, nectar bearing

as asters bloom, actea spikes now whiten,

giving their glory to the tiring bees.

Winter skeins streak paling skies

calling ahent their echoing evocation.

Autumn beckons, nights lengthen, balancing days

as hedgehogs rustle, garnering their fuel

of small beasts, insect prey for winter sleep

And in the hedgerow, Robin sings

a winter song.

And small frogs, growing, find their shelter

in stone cairn, or in wood-pile, as the bright

colours form, of fruiting apples,

squashes, orange of pumpkins, and now, drifting,

first leaves, brown, or redden,
or turn to glowing gold.

(JB, 2014)