A Sweet Sublime
Oh, endings are a sweet sublime, crisp with longing,
a joyous confection of ripe orchards and hay fields
bursting on the senses plump with summer's yield
and so the Fall's a summer love belonging...
belonging now to branch, to bough, to wind belonging
remnant leaves full blooded block blows like shields
and golden stalks march across blue skied cornfields
Oh, what sweet ending makes warm prolonging?
Oh, prolong the morning dew, too soon it turns frost.
Let the scent of concord grape on trellised vine cling
among the morning glories grasp criss-crossed
for Fall is best beloved while summer sings
and winter belays it's use of killing frost
for Autumn's glory's brief while summer lingers.
Date: Aug. 14, 2012