The Overture of May
t.l.Coye
And so my mind had drifted
From a quiet soft parade, of
Endless tempting seraphs
Of the soul, out into a garden
Bursting with the summer’s
Orchestra of May.
Giant daisies, thrusting forth
From a morning’s dampened
Ground, tilt limply as the silver
Shards of dew taunt the pallid
Petals as a weighty crown.
Maple leaves dance noiselessly
In soft embrace of forceful winds
As moths contort a ballet
Of graceful conquest, having
Swept the moon beneath their heavy wings.
While my peering eyes had fallen
Casually upon a fading sun,
The calm day subsided into a star-filled
Ocean, dark and bleak.
Heaven fluted high concertos deep
Into my thoughts, whilst shadows
Stole across a golden field of wheat
How calm the orchestra of
Summer’s sweet perfume, which
Drowns my senses and drags
Away myself into the fallen
Overtures of nightly hues.