Monday, August 25, 2014

The Brogue of August





The brogue of August is subtle, soft-slurred
Locust, cicada and cricket-song-blurred
Crooning cantata of blue-bronze finesse
Teases the breezes and willow-gold tress
Oh, let us wander to far yonder slope
Savor the flavor of sweet sun-mulled hope

The smile of August is dust and dew-drenched
Hazy and lazy with thirst keen, unquenched
Daydreamer’s darling, we pause where the rose
Scatters its tatters in russet repose
Oh, let us linger longer ere its street
Turns to a river of red ‘neath our feet

The arms of August hold us like a belle
Poised on the brink of reluctant farewell
Wait, oh my darling, do not leave us yet
Ah, none can rearrange Time’s minuet
Silver-sedge-subtle and sleepy-soft tent
You smile as sun-flower hedges are bent

The feet of August wander 'cross a quilt
Where all the patches of summer are spilt
Chartreuse and cinnamon, peaches and cream
Dill and persimmon, cornflower-fringed stream
Come, let us dance, lest perchance August slips
Over Time's edge like a sigh on our lips
     
 
© Janet Martin

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