September Day

September meets with warm embrace, quickening the harvest pace, though looming autumn can't efface what's left of summer's arid grace. The linen hanging on the line dances with the gust and shine, while maypops heavy on the vine, with honeysuckle, twist and twine. The cool grass tickles naked feet while weaned lambs in the distance bleat, and find some shelter from the heat 'neath leafy canopy retreat. The gentle wind so jaunt'ly plays and tousles copper hair ablaze like furious dancing autumn rays from Mabon's fiery upraise. Through rustling leaves the sunbeams glint, I catch the balm of sage and mint, and every herb and floral scent blown to me by the wind's dissent. Breathing deep olfactory prose until the old red rooster crows waking me from my repose and from beneath the tree, I rose. When as I rose, a red leaf fell, wisping down its last farewell; a changing season to foretell; the coming bounty doth compel. Cicadas loudly buzz along and sing their end of summer song, o'er by the thorny brambles throng; unto the prairie they belong. By and by, I turned my mind back to the farm and daily grind, collecting eggs where I can find; inside the henhouse, else behind. The hens put up a bitter fuss with feathers flying from the truss, so I let out an angry cuss. Still, they obliged; allowed me thus. Upon it all, I took my leave, finished with my blast and thieve much to the angry birds' aggrieve; giving them a day's reprieve. Outside the coop, behind the fence, my greedy boar approached me whence, grunting for his recompense, and so two eggs I offered thence. Then on, as careful as I might into the farmhouse kitchen white, delivered up the shelled delight to feed the morrow's appetite. Upon the ending of this chore, I happened back outside once more, to watch the day fade into lore, and Luna make her grand encore. -----------------------------------------------