September Dosey Doe

  (do you sense a flutist and fiddler in the fringes;-)?

 September Dawn...

Now earlier dusk dons its yawns of shadow promenade

Above the sparser, hard-to-find-‘em cricket serenade

Now mellower the meadow still insists on our stares

Where yellower the golden rod ignites its feather-flares

Now sentimental-er we stir the dust on garden floors

Where summer’s rush of hours blurs on rainbow-shimmered shores

Now mistier the morning breaks, now dewier her dress

Where holier love’s hunger wakes a humbler happiness

Now gossamer of web-design no mortal can achieve

Showcases intricacies that eight-legged artists weave

Now moodier the summer-sleepy zephyr tousles trees

And tickles beaming flowers into dreamy memories

Now nature’s seamstress starts to stretch the threads of milk-weed pods

And everything she touches turns to gold, russet and bronze

Now corn-fields tease our nostrils, bees are busiest of all

Wild grasses wave their tassels like banners heralding fall

Now hints of autumn's advent scatter leaf-shaped souvenirs

And tints of twilight-tea contentment sweetens farewell’s tears  

Now more than ever we are bent on ‘bringing in the sheaves’

Where more than ever we are meant to treasure days like these

Where flowers spill their final frills in a fine fashion-show

Where sweet September senses calls for fall’s first dosey-doe

© Janet Martin

September Dusk...