Tag: Autumn

following autumn moisture

Following Autumn Moisture #Poetry #TuesdayTidbit

Following Autumn Moisture

by Abbie Johnson Taylor

Bright
sunlight
streams through my
kitchen window.
After days of rain,
I rejoice in the sun.
The few songbirds that are left
sing their boisterous welcome to fall.
When I take a walk, I see blue sky.
Fallen leaves crunch beneath my feet and cane.

***

The above poem was published in this year’s fall print issue of The Avocet. You can click below to hear me read it.

New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***

Books

On an Autumnal Afternoon #Poetry #WednesdayWords

As I sit in a shady spot on my back lawn,
a cool breeze caresses me under a blue, cloudless sky
amid grass parched by lack of rain.
In the distance, barking dogs
and the hum of traffic on an adjacent street
punctuate the silent air.
No bird songs can be heard—no creatures flit about.
At least there are no mosquitoes, bees, or flies.
Fall is in the air.
After the dry summer’s relentless heat,
autumn can’t come soon enough.

***

The above poem was published in the October 17^th issue of The Weekly Avocet. Click below to hear me read it.

on an autumnal afternoon

New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***

Books

The Other Guy #Poetry #Tuesday Tidbit

Oh, little bee,
as autumn approaches,
you hover on my porch roof,
between life and death.

One day, you fall,
land in my hair.
Thinking you’re just a bug,
I brush you away.
In one last effort to survive,
your stinger latches onto my eye.
In pain, I manage to somehow extricate you,
but the damage is done.

Now, I must tell people,
“Think this looks bad?
You should see the other guy.”

***

The above poem, inspired by something that happened to me last year, was published in this month’s issue of The Writer’s Grapevine. To read past issues of this free, online magazine featuring poems, stories, essays, and some advertising, click here. If you’d like to receive this publication by email, send a blank message to: writersGV+subscribe@groups.io You can click on the Play button below to hear me read the poem.

By the way, for those of you who use the National Library Services for the Blind and Print Disabled, The Red Dress is available for download from their site here. No matter how you read it, please be sure to review it wherever you can. That goes for all my books. Thank you for stopping by. Stay safe, happy, and healthy, and may you always have positive experiences.

New! The Red Dress

When Eve went to her high school senior prom, she wore a red dress that her mother had made for her. That night, after dancing with the boy of her dreams, she caught him in the act with her best friend. Months later, Eve, a freshman in college, is bullied into giving the dress to her roommate. After her mother finds out, their relationship is never the same again.

Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers, and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives a Facebook friend request from her old college roommate and an invitation to her twenty-five-year high school class reunion, then meets her former best friend by chance, she must confront the past in order to face the future.

***

My Books

Leaf Disposal #Tuesday Tidbit #Poetry

Today is the first day of fall. Soon, our thoughts will turn to the raking of leaves. In the following poem from How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver, I explain how my mother and I attempted to get rid of leaves the old-fashioned way one year. Now, as then, we are experiencing dry conditions and high forest fire danger. So, please don’t try this at home. You can click on the Play button below the poem to hear me read it.

LEAF DISPOSAL

We gathered them into bags, placed them curbside.
Mother said, “We used to burn leaves.
It smelled like fall. Let’s burn a few now.”

After a dry year, forest fires raged around us.
I couldn’t remember the last time it rained.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Stop being such a chicken.
Help me gather leaves into a pile.”
With a sick feeling in my stomach,
I did as I was told.

She struck a match–nothing happened.
Leaves drifted away, as if knowing their fate.
She tried again with no results.
After several more attempts,
we disposed of leaves in the usual way.

New! The Red Dress

***

My Books