At Long Last: The Autumn Poem!

It took me a while, but here it is at last! A while back I wrote about how Autumn had begun and a poem popped out of me. It was a toughie to finish because it seemed to demand a lot of rigor in the meter and rhyme, which I usually don't get real technical about. Plus there was a lot of imagery around music I had to figure out and bend to my purpose, which was a challenge. But here it is...probably not completely finished (though very close)...and as yet untitled. Send me a title suggestion if you like!

I've written a thousand songs,
but nobody must know.
They mean for me to take up law,
yet I would set the tempo
and live like a crescendo.

Like metronomes and prayer beads
they press a harmonious match,
when I know contrast and tension
give the movement passion
and build the highest climax.

Doctors fear I court a madness
and unstring my harp and mandolin.
Take my quills and parchment!
Though I greet, parley, and grin
yet I surge and score within.

The thunder claps past midnight,
and I cannot be found.
I finally broke from these salons
where every poem's bound
and nothing alive resounds.

They will find me on the morrow
when the storming finally stills.
I laid beneath the hosta leaves
and took November airs until
a rest my every measure filled.

And now they sing their songs:
all threnodies and sotto voce gall.
Valves and reeds will speak for me,
and all they tried to silence in me
will long outlive them all.