I also attempted to write a semi-classical poem, like strict meter, form and whatnot but obviously I gave up after the second verse. I don't know why I have so much trouble with it. After all I used to churn them out like they were going out of style (....oh wait....). But anyways take a gander at my metaphor laden thoughts and sing some September songs for yourself.
Autumn blew in, her scarves disarrayed,
late for the season’s re-styling
Huffing about the sweltering drought,
her perm growing limp and dismaying
Then the wind frisked me up and down,
checking for signs of summer.
The cool was near, so crisp and clear,
to weave my thoughts with gossamer.
A sudden sigh, she (Autumn) stood.
Hands on hips.
A secret smile on crimson lips,
her mind in RedGold dreams.
Each finger a blending brush,
the palette of her eyes was enough.
And she swept the skies with colder hues,
crispifing reds and blues.
Liquefying autumn ink,
pouring on the roots of trees.
And slowly leaves will ripen into
Yellow Mellow shades.
The content sinks deep,
and we relish in the chilly air
Sing to me September songs,
for I’ve been waiting
far too long
 |
| please yes |
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