Autumn speaks in the wind, several voices
drifting by late on a September breeze.
Fireflies dance to the calliope.
Leaves skitter like so much ephemera.
The melodies are often intimate,
lyrical whispers of a confidante.
Suddenly she shouts---a termagant storm,
vicious, clamoring, distorted and raw.
In the cool evening, facetious and gay
she secretly chortles, an inside joke.
Tugging crimson ribbons from tangled hair,
she ties them out of reach, in a high limb.
Sesquipedalian conversations
are soon silenced by her chattering chill.
She flippantly speaks before spoken to,
although, few will offer any protest.
She celebrates her loved propinquity
Bowing out just before winter’s advent.
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A semi-structured spilled-words poem with ten syllables per line, written to include words from a list of a dozen favorites: propinquity, calliope, firefly, sesquipedalian, crimson, confidante, lyrical, facetious, ephemera, intimate, termagant, distorted.
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3 years ago
If I were the sort to judge folks subjectively, I'd assert that anybody whose favourite words do not include, "mellifluous," has an incomplete soul.
ReplyDeleteI am, however, indebted for the introduction to, "propinquity," while I shall use henceforth when occasionally appropriate.