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Sep 2014
By the end of this poem, those once vibrant
shall slough off in horizons of necrosis.
As I tap out completion,
their summer cedes to countless performances;
actors bow before the closing curtain of Autumn.

The maelstrom of summer-lovers lulls to a murmur
And the great Mevlana’s couplets and Khayyam’s quatrains
Float away on the formations of down-bound geese.
You’ll hear the Doppler shift of devotion’s goodbye
On the whines of the locomotive’s whistle.

By the end of this poem, the thistle fades
from heliotrope to gun metal gray.
The clandestine scent of “once-whens”
Wafts into a future of “now-agains.”
Yet, this new Fall is bittersweet.
Before another ******* of trees,
a red rose blushes in reminiscence.

By this poems end, I’ll be in love
with the chill of an approaching season
wearing the brightest flower in my garden of poetry
One last choke on the rising smoke
as the last painful stanza goes
Into the solemn procession
toward the sacred pyre of leaves.
A Dare to Poets... take the last 3-5 word of each line and assemble into a poem...watch what happens:

…Those, once vibrant
…In horizons of necrosis
…Tap out completion
…To countless performances
…Before closing curtain of autumn
…Summer-lovers lulls to a murmur
…Khayyam’s quatrains
…Of Down-bound geese
…Shift of Devotion’s goodbye
…Of the locomotives whistle
…The thistle fades
…To gun metal gray
…Of “once whens”
…Of “now-agains”
…Fall is bittersweet
…******* of trees
…In reminiscence
…I’ll be in love
…An approaching season
…In my garden of poetry
…The rising smoke
…Of a stanza goes
…Solemn procession
…Sacred pyre of leaves.
Phosphorimental
Written by
Phosphorimental  D.C.
(D.C.)   
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