Fall's Bench Glows
Cloaked in beige, the park awaits new dusk-time
and there again owlets will start to chime,
through gentle rain, silence lays all around
while leaves russet glide unto Autumn’s ground
as maples hide their flesh in lean display
where twigs imbed the gangly stems like hay
to shred reams of petals, a torn bouquet.
Yet a wooden bench glows , scenting deep night
As love bestows an oath of fate’s delight;
in September’s innate grace, one kiss, two hops
enshrining wrapped embrace through clear dewdrops
while Fall’s bench cradles woven dreams with finesse,
a season of devotion, of stars that bless
this fond appeal to grasp eternity
into all cycle’s reels, evermore free.
................
Isaiah Zerbst’s Interlocking Rhyme Contest
By nette onclaud 1/25/2015
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