Tuesday, September 5, 2017


Wow, it feels September-ish, Victoria and I agreed 
as we waited for her bus on the first back-to-school quite-coolish morning!

Morning is hushed, plush port of mist
The sedums blush, like school girls kissed
And old, new sweaters feel de-lish
In weather so September-ish

From doorways mothers wipe their tears
Where summer’s ‘hurray’ disappears
As back-to-school worlds fill Time’s dish
And hearts with art, September-ish

Noon tolls yon big old, golden bell
While vibrato of crickets swell
Where fell and field splay mellow-ish
With fronds, bronzed and September-ish

Bold blooms in muted mantle bow
Surrendered to Time's When and How
 Futile to become rebel-ish
Summer succumbs September-ish

Jars gleam with streams of garnered grace
Daydreamers linger long to trace
The place of boughs still bent with wish
And fruit, sweet and September-ish

Cornrows, like green-clad infantry
March stalk-still across hill and lea  
As woolly clouds droop, splash-a-splish
On worlds unfurled, September-ish

© Janet Martin


  1. A delightful whimsy.
    A wish on a dish of September-ish.

  2. Oh you had me at the lush 'sshs' of the first verse! September-ish is possibly my favourite time of year.

    1. :0 thank-you Cyndy, I love it too, even while in a state of quiet mourning.


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