9-100 -- unfinished

Something by Blue October
Something that he likes --
What that he showed me --
Of furtive speaks

But then instead -- by her --
Below the fold --
When the Bumpers tremble --
They would hold

The chlorophylls and the bees--
Were buzzing through the dirge
And orange with the blackest letters --
The pall divaricates and merge.

The summer whispers --
The stone perspires --
The grass replies --
It spittles -- fares

Adonis and Hyacinthus
And joyous Laurels came,
Emotion and its many hues
Ephemeral did seem.

They rounded out Circumference
But Soul had naught detained --
He living measured out the years --
Of biased Lease retained.

It was to be -- and it was not --
Capricious Nature is
Or else, I am -- and am --
Denied the sight of eyes.