Autumn is promised, clouds are few,
The hour puts out the sun;
Let there be nothing troubles you:
Your daily chores are done.
A sea of starlight fill your sails
To guide you safe away,
And all your trails ride comet tails
Among the nebulae,
For all that realm beyond our knowing—
So seldom spoken of—
The world no less invites your going
And asks no more than love.
by me, Patrick Gillespie, April 10 2026
This little poem is another for my novel, The Silent Sea, the fifth novel (of six) in my WistThistle fantasy cycle. I should be finished with this fifth novel soon—probably by June or sooner, then the last novel, which I’m tentatively calling Autumn, might well be finished by the end of the year. The poem originated with the second stanza, written as part of another poem for my daughter. I liked it so much, I made a new poem out of it. Once again, I apologize for my silence. I hope to review a young writer soon and discuss more poetry.
