September 30, 2008

• Autumn

  This is an old poem that I rewrote.

  Autumn

   

  Feel the wind whip your cheek,

  And chill your fingers and nose.

  The sun is casting a bright glow,

   Warming your face as you walk.

  The rain is cold and drippy,

  Covering everything with a wet spray.

  The mornings are cold and crisp,

  Everything hidden by the morning mist.

  The tree leaves change and fall,

  Drifting to sit on the ground in piles.

  Squirrels and chipmunks race to store their nuts.

  Dear and turkeys constantly graze, fattening up for the winter.

  Farmers and gardeners harvest their crops.

  Silos and barns are filled; garden produce is canned or frozen.

  Kitchen shelves and pantry bins are filled;

  With tasty treats, apples, pumpkins and drying herbs.

  Wood is cut, chopped, and stacked.

  Warm coats, blankets and shoes are brought out to air.

  Everything is prepared for the winter a head.

  Time seems to hang in the air

   as the change in the season comes about.

  It is better then it was.

  • 3:05 pm
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