December 19, 2024
~ First Place ~ Premiere Contest: Premiere VIII - Open Sponsor: Rob Carmack
~ Poem Of The Day ~ December 20, 2024
~ Fifth Place ~ Premiere Contest: Happy Birthday Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
In the middle ages these roughed and scuffed decades between newborn crocus -snow-melt-nursed- and dried hydrangea blooms sepia-skinned and papery thin I earned the right to wear sapphires and burn mademoiselle mistakes with wisdom-fires I collected years for years to earn my autumn season —the autumn side of September hair once a cascade of Sol’s solar flare now but faded silver streams spilled by Harvest moon though hazel eyes still reveal kaleidoscope enchantment ...no longer the garish-girlish shade of June grass but rather a muted-Nature-diluted sage green; specked with autumn sunset amber flecked with maple bark brown —tints of hazel colors hint at my September birth September ma chérie when you whisper low I hear cumulus collide cotton-ball-soft your wind-song croons my name as yellow willows bend over the river bank like queens about to wash their troubles from tresses prayers of praise I float abundant as corn-fruit-maize away they fly un-weighed indeed prayers of praise do rise to rosé skies as light as sunlit swans shadows lengthen as Sol too old for August swagger sags upon indigo hills September brings me closer to the western edge where my elder-berry soul will someday fledge life no longer runs on the reach for noon-time-highs— slouchy-sun-afternoons fade to early sunset swoons a time of ending a time of beginning diurnal dust both gold and coal weighed and balanced; equinox an unwinding clock from day to dark as sapphire-fire melts tart Virgo to free buttery Libra —revolution gives way to evolution ah September so sincere as we harvest memories I appreciate being in the moment; summer-sizz-fizz ...hard-body-energy uncorked exuberant like shaken champagne spray gives way now to soft-bellied leaf-falling days musing with mulled apple cider spiced with nutmeg rum— savoring reflections in facets of sapphire nights as fire pit phoenixes fly ember-seeds of dreams into spiral galaxies where Pegasus reigns… my imagination— rein free— rains in watercolors across paper reams of fated nights brisk-with-a-nip playful-painful like puppies’ milk-teeth that nicks against tanned skin not yet sweater ready but a wool embrace allowed for winter lies ahead in wood-stove-season of September sapphire spirit burns with fire in my throat I sing without fear my tears my cheers alive in my verse memoirs of Venus and Mars shared with the universe September are you listening? together we'll ripen like pale wheat sheafs celebrate and commiserate as we equate my second coming of age to your muted season of silver and sage I collected years for years to earn my autumn season —the autumn side of September born of your change-of-life-womb I return your vintage sister together we’ll lose the mettle of our rusted metal to spindle pricks of hoarfrost but never lose the star in our sapphire stone your copper canopy will fall my copper veins will freeze when winter man grows his ancient ice-beard long his reason as old as his rime is cold as he paints us faint in December’s antique white —but my blood and bosom will always hold your apple cider spiced and fire pit glow
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