Soft September, queen of seeds,
below tall, bone-spiked, rose-bay towers
white furs whole fields of set-asides,
softens the tufted sedge
at whose treacled edge
the deepening water slides.
And yet, she knows her many needs:
to nectar yet she keeps a few choice flowers
to flap the butterflies about the rides.
A comma* punctuates our gaze
with clementine delicacies, strays.
What seed September will not seek to try
she'll hand on edgy-ripe to fly:
sycamore dried, toughened, stacked,
October puissance will enact,
when whirling gusts will catch at some
and over the river carry them.
Soft September, queen of ease,
smile on the pears in my pear trees
and bring me friends who'd love to try them.
..............................
*A 'comma' is a species of (UK) butterfly, orange in colour, with black spots.
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Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
