It is that dry, restless time of year
up goes the cider apple cheer for the sake
of an opaque and mellow mildewed season
no rhyme nor reason nor fellow feeling
for summer's stealing away without a bow
out comes the plough now harvester
has baled hectometres of ripe eared wheat
trampled by crow feet gleaners flattening
earth and worms and fattening in the gut
a thanksgiving glut before the fallow fast
nothing outlasts the annual treadmill
but 'til daisies bloom at damp-eyed Michaelmass
relish the impasse of worn out green to gold
September's stranglehold; silent robin knows how
far past summer is from the bough
©Laura Granby 2016
Walt takes a comprehensive look at all aspects of rhyme and asks us to make use of this poetic musicality with optional reference to autumn in all its senses @ Meeting the Bar – the reason for rhyme
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