...here are a few frames that sparked fall-fever symtoms;)
It seeps into green-coppice art
Tousles its diadem
It interrupts the trepid heart
That clings to summer’s hem
It spirals on emboldened breeze
And golden walnut leaf
It frolics where new minstrels tease
The summer-lover’s grief
It hides inside sun-sweetened pears
And drips from nature’s lip
To bronze-frond fence-line thoroughfares
Where summer lost its grip
It slips between the song and dance
Of what was and will be
And startles Farewell’s reluctance
With giddy chivalry
It kisses orchard avenues
It rankles with Intent
To those inclined to sing the blues
Of summer-gone lament
It mothers Thought and Fond Feeling
And cradles to its cheek
Fragmented flowers, soft-stealing
Summer; its mesh is
weak
It rouses echoes from deep sleep
Of childhood’s long ago
And wraps its subject in a sweep
Of summer’s afterglow
© Janet Martin
