Autumn
Amy Lowell
They brought me a quilled, yellow dahlia,
Opulent, flaunting.
Round gold
Flung out of a pale green stalk.
Round, ripe gold
Of maturity,
Meticulously frilled and flaming,
A fire-ball of proclamation:
Fecundity decked in staring yellow
For all the world to see.
They brought a quilled, yellow dahlia,
To me who am barren
Shall I send it to you,
You who have taken with you
All I once possessed?
Sisters Of The Moon
Fleetwood Mac
Intense silence
As she walked in the room
Her black robes trailing
Sister of the moon
And a black widow spider makes
More sound than she
And black moons in those eyes of hers
Made more sense to me
Heavy persuasion
It was hard to breathe
She was dark at the top of the stairs
And she called to me
And so I followed
As friends often do
I cared not for love, nor money
I think she knew
The people, they love her
And still they are the most cruel
She asked me
Be my sister, sister of the moon
Some call her sister of the moon
Some say illusions are her game
Wrap her in velvet
Does anyone, ah, know her name
So we make our choices
When there is no choice
And we listen to their voices
Ignoring our own voice
And when the roses are half-bud soft flowers
And lovely as the king of flies has come
It was a fleeting visit, all too brief
In three short minutes, he had been and gone
He rested there upon an apple leaf
A gorgeous opal crown sat on his head
Although the garden is a lovely place
Was it worthy of so fine a guest
Ah…
Ah…
Ah…
Ah…
Dragonfly, dragonfly …
Maverick Mist 