Tuesday, September 23, 2014

September Kissed Her





Bliss it is to be like this
Tangled in her twist of mist
Sage plumage September-kissed
Love is laced with amethyst

Tapestry of teeming tree
Majesty of mulled, hulled lea
Moment-mustered infantry
Spills sun-sparkles on life’s sea

Russet rafters, laughter-bent
‘neath a blue and brooding tent
Cork the torque of Time’s intent
While September pays her rent

Fact and fantasy slur, blur
It is almost still summer
Pour thought’s storehouse full of Her
She which we call September

We indulge her wanderlust
Duck beneath the stern of Must
Lest she dies, lies dust-to-dust
Blown to naught by naughty gust

Love is laced with amethyst
Tangled in a twist of mist
Bliss it is to be like this
Sage with age; September-kissed

© Janet Martin

Hubby just called. He is driving through Wisconsin and he said the trees and scenery are already autumn-stellar! (well, not those words exactly but he said they are really nice bright orange and red and he wishes I could see it) ...me too.

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