She is showing her age:
Though gracefully, no sign of blight
Mellow mossy patinas of sage
Creeping up, replacing confetti bright
She is relaxing her grip on the front yard reign
Lush over-growth dotted with withered leaves, dry brown stem
She whispers: "soak up, enjoy the finale we cannot constrain"
The last harvest-hued sunflower salutes her queen's end.
She has faithfully sent out her farewell entourage:
Cone-flowers, "Susan's", and Butterfly bush
August's patch-work collage
The Monarch's last push
Never bitter, more contently resigned
She has soldiered fierce heat, harsh showers
Provided, drenched, nurtured, each kind
Sending out in season her troops of flowers
The last grain soon to be dropping from "Summer's lease" hour glass of sand
She, preparing her adieu, always on cue
We say our farewell, nostalgic, knowing her heir, Autumn, will soon take command
*I borrowed "summer lease" from one of my favorite poems "shall I compare thee to a summer's day" by Shakespeare.