Don’t let that vine strangle
what it took the summer to produce –
grasping tentacles
and choke-holds,
those wrestling moves of the botanicalworld,
seek to suck you dry.
Don’t let the clutching swagger
drown your song;
it is the seed you carry
in struggling womb
that sets you apart,
defines your purpose,
soars,
your Autumn Aria,
poised to enrich
the barren soil around you.
Learn the notes by rote
and sing,
a melodic sowing spree;
your gift was predestined to
soar through the air waves
and feed the world.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
“Autumn Aria” fairly SINGS!!
It reminds me of raising our banners high! 🙂 Beautiful, Melody and stirring! God bless you!
Thank you Debbie! 🙂
.. and feed the world / within. (my take ofcourse) 🙂
That’s a nice interpretation. Poetry leaves so much up to us; that’s one of the reasons I love it so much!