September-Sentimentality

September always seems to steep my senses with an urgency tostop more, to savor summer's final fling!,even while I haste from garden to kitchen withharvest to gather and preserve! (rescuing tomatoes from rows ravaged with blight!!) While collecting ingredients for savoury supper dishes... I am so thankful for a poetry loving mother,who first kindled and nurtured my love for poetry; for cadence of rhythm and rhyme ... Seems sometimes I grow homesick for places I’ve never beenFor waves that wash a far-off shore of seas I’ve never seenFor sun and shadow play on views that ache in thought’s ‘suppose’Before they slip away in hues of amber, blue and rose Seems sometimes I grow lonesome for someone I’ve never knownA kindred-spirit troubadour not made of skin and boneBut of a whisper that ignites a kind of poetryThat kindles roaring appetites for what will never be Seems sometimes I grow wistful for worlds long-forgotten, ohFor misty sun-kissed vistas or river-rush far belowAnd I grow sentimental over lyrics still untamedIn melodies still wafting in masterpieces unnamed Seems sometimes in September I am bitter-sweetly tornTwixt Summer’s dying ember and beauty’s bliss, Autumn-born/borneSeems sometimes in the twilight of another summer’s sweepI sense a tender kinship with past poets, fast asleep Seems sometimes all the orchards, gardens, crickets, butterfliesThe blues, purples and golds that paint a poet’s paradiseOf white heath asters, gleam of goldenrod, of milkweed's blushAnoints me with a sense of living 'neath an Artist’s brush Seems sometimes I can almost hear an almost-symphonyA grand medley of solos and unrivaled harmonyAs flower-bowers crescendo then fade, as woodlands flareSeems sometimes I can almost feel nature’s baton, mid-air © Janet Martin One evening I commented to my mother how much I love the sound of cricketsand she wondered if I remember the poem about the cricket and the ant...My organized mom knew where in her scads of clippings to (hopefully) find it!And she did. a very timely reminder! “A slack hand causes poverty, but the hand of the diligent makes rich.” () “The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing, while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied.” ()