September Baby

by Joella Wadel

Go, gilded flag of goldenrod—
Announce the autumn guest
Perform in haste my bright command
Make genial request
That infant in a cradle crib
With glittery garb be dressed.
Globe, welcome small and fragile child—
Your tenderness arrest
To shield her idle slumbering
And fancy all her rest
With woolen sheep, with dancing stars
And tales of being blessed.
Guard, father of the newborn girl—
And cordially invest
Lick tastely top of lollipop
Sip teacups with success
Buy just enough and not too much;
Prince frog must be impressed.
Visit cities, shops and shores
Pass on a driver’s test
Smell tipsy fang of gasoline
A few lattes ingest
Befriend and suffer, cry and love
Seek out fair pure and best.
Shout, run around the country pond
Sometimes hair all messed
But often with a phone in hand
Or sitting in a desk
To rationalize philosophy
To read a comic jest
Paint, at home in halls of art
By brush and page caressed
Dip finger into mystery
Create the picturesque
And form from nothing—as it were—
A chanting choral fest.
Yes, From generation Z
Perhaps a prophetess
Fruit planned and planted in the earth
Psychology obsessed
This is the Pearl, the Nautilus
Twenty-two years previous.

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Joella is a sort of regular soul who drinks poetry, inhales music, and consumes art. 

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Photography by Kenneth Godoy