I really like this, Larry. Not many have written sonnets in heptameter. It's hard to maintain interest in such lengthy metered lines, but you have managed to pull it of rather beautifully.
I'd like to merely address some of what kinda feel to me as hiccups
in your otherwise perfect meter:
QUOTE (Larry @ Dec 9 10, 12:10 )
Precursor winds play tag with golden pennants of the Fall
by twirling them in tiny hurricanes. Their auburn hues
now echo empty hands, which gave them birth. Once[-]shadowed halls,
denuded massive oaks allow the light within their queues.
Though umber fingers clutch dead vestiges of yesterday,
release comes soon. The detritus of Spring lies on the lane
in piles… obscures that colonnaded path. Wafted away
are momentary jewels, loosed by time, which fall like rain
[shortening loosened rather than forcing the reading of jew'ls ?]
to bury; and in turn be
blanketed quilted by a hoary veil.
So swift the end befalls[,] and swifter still is life restored
by moldering remains. The mysteries from Change’s well
obscure hidden / doubtful / dusky / cryptic legacy. They may be unexplored,
[some iambic word rather than the here-grating trochaic obscure ?]
misunderstood. The universe, like leaves, will be renewed.
Death and decay: conception’s seed with which we are imbued.
These are not necessarily "suggestions"... but mere illustration of some other ways of expressing to stimulate your poetic palate.
deLighting to share, Daniel