Here: another year on the point of turning
earning warm ripe saccharine drippings of praise—
“Raise your eyes to perfect sky!”
I bend instead, tending leaf-fall
(all golden chance lost to north-blue breeze)
ease my stance to contemplation
shun symbol, drink this scalding tea
Graceful Press Poetry 
This has a gorgeous flowing of word into word into word. Rich sound. Just lovely.
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Thank you very much. I had fun with it!
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I can relate to this one—there’s so much more going on at ground level than in the bare November sky.
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Yes, I remember some lovely poems of yours, showing us some of that hidden life on the ground.
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Fallen leaves slowly turning to compost are just as interesting as fluffy pink sunset clouds 🙂
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This is fantastic! All of your echoes work beautifully. Well-crafted
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Thank you!
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I agree with everyone else. A beautiful display of words.
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Thanks very much!
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Something tells me 2016 isn’t going to get a lot of praise when it ends. Did you and your family get through last night’s shenanigans ok?
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Just a few fireworks down here…how about you?
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Gun shots, fire works, car horns, drums, air horns, and lots and lots of singing.
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Gunshots! Yikes!
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I love all of this. I love the first line and its bonus rhyme, I love “north-blue breeze,” and I love how the overall echo structure flows.
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Thanks very much. It kind of took off in its own direction!
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“Warm ripe saccharine drippings of praise”. Absolutely stunning.
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Thank you!
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Beautiful poem, Jennifer. I love the way it flows–and from the outward contemplation to the inward and the tea.
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Thank you, Merril. It’s so interesting how these forms will take you in their own direction. 🙂
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That second line! Wow. But I love how you turned from that and ended in such a different place. All the turning inward November asks of us.
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It was almost like a word association game, playing with the echoes. So I guess the inward-tending was inevitable?
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Yes. I think it is impossible to not go inward this time of year. Always good to read your work.
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