Sonnet 4: O November, flaccid and bold yellow

Unpublished pieces

O November, flaccid and bold yellow, 
Captured with cold drifting in, here and there. 
And filling the never ending mellow, 
With strident flames awash in the slow air. 
Flashing memories of Summer sun, 
No other month can ever so compare 
With hints of Winter snow so soon to come. 
And Christmas magic willingly declared. 
A winter will so flow with weeping smile, 
From this eleventh month of translucent glow. 
Leafless trees proclaim their slow gentle guile, 
Of times gone past and softer times to know. 
Never leave, stay as you are, O swirling time, 
With past and present in creeping decline.

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jimtwocrows's picture

This is a musical piece. I am

This is a musical piece. I am moved.