To the Empire’s Fair Splendor

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr

To the Empire’s Fair Splendor

When mighty oaks bow
it is to the beauty of your autumn splendor.
From the orange and gold of maples,
to the shade of turning grapes.
From the level fields and rolling hills
that border Ontario’s escarpment
to the mountains of Allegheny.
From fingers trailing through a goblet of wine
to the shores of Erie. Here do mighty oaks bow.

This poem is my response to MTB: Opening lines … beginnings,
the prompt from Peter Frankis at dVerse ~ Poets Pub,
where the prompt is to write a poem with a striking opening line.

Maple trees dominate the landscape of Western New York (The Empire State),
their autumn colors far outshining those of the oaks.

Image source: pngio.com (edited here)

32 thoughts on “To the Empire’s Fair Splendor”

    • Thank you, Peter. The Finger Lakes in New York were formed by receding glaciers, forming deep valleys with deep lakes. Those valley sides create a sheltered area that provides a micro-climate that is perfect for grapes, and the Finger Lakes are known for their wines.
      When a severe blight decimated the European wine industry in the 19th century, American-French hybrids from the Finger Lakes helped restore wine production. (Ironically, it was the import (for study) of American vines resilient to the aphid or louse on their root system that introduced the blight to less resilient European vines.)
      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_French_Wine_Blight

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  11. Many bow in reverence to trees, but when you see the mightiest bow, you are in the presence of the divine. I appreciated your explanation above. I guessed the fingers in the red were lakes but to know and know their context was nice.

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    • Thank you for this astute observation. 🙂
      It was home for 59 years. I miss my family (children & sisters), but I’ve made it work with visits 2 or 3 times a year. Travel restrictions made this past year difficult. 11 months went by without an opportunity to visit, until November, when I completed a test, followed by a quarantine in NY, followed by another test to prove I could roam COVID-free and see my daughter the week before she delivered her first child (and to see my granddaughter, of course).
      I think of the many places I’ve visited with my children, even as adults right up until I moved to Missouri in 2012 (to be with the woman I love), including many trips around Western New York with my son, with our cameras.
      I miss them, and I miss those places.

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