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January 25th, 2015 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 284,072 comments.
Sylvia Plath - Frog Autumn

Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother. 
The insects are scant, skinny. 
In these palustral homes we only 
Croak and wither. 

Mornings dissipate in somnolence. 
The sun brightens tardily 
Among the pithless reeds. Flies fail us. 
he fen sickens. 

Frost drops even the spider. Clearly 
The genius of plenitude 
Houses himself elsewhwere. Our folk thin 
Lamentably.

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Added: May 7 2003 | Viewed: 1671 times | Comments and analysis of Frog Autumn by Sylvia Plath Comments (27)

Frog Autumn - Comments and Information

Poet: Sylvia Plath
Poem: Frog Autumn
Poem of the Day: Mar 25 2004

Comment 27 of 27, added on January 15th, 2015 at 9:49 PM.
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wZ25NB You can definitely see your enthusiasm in the work you write. The sector hopes for even more passionate writers like you who are not afraid to mention how they believe. Always go after your heart.

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Comment 26 of 27, added on December 21st, 2014 at 10:00 AM.
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Comment 25 of 27, added on December 20th, 2014 at 10:47 PM.
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qB9b9F I am always invstigating online for articles that can assist me. Thx!

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