Viewed through frosted panes
The valley was bathed
in moonlight
And like a ribbon of
pure white silk
The road crossed the
silent scene
Viewed through frosted panes
The valley was bathed
in moonlight
And like a ribbon of
pure white silk
The road crossed the
silent scene
Insects are dangerous
That we all know
Some kill you quick
Some kill you slow
Some poison the blood
In your arteries
One particular
specimen
Is the hepatitis bee
Through the misty dawning
Of a crisp autumn
morning
Like emerging from a
dream
Amidst the haunting
scene
I spy Pheasants in the
frost
And in the moment, I
am lost
Under autumnal skies
The suns strength diminishes
With each passing day
And foliage turns slowly
From green to gold
To red, to brown
Before fluttering to earth
Where autumn breezes
Make them dance
To the seasons song
But dancing turns to fury
When breeze turns to raging storm
And autumn windfalls
Are sent swirling
As if caught
In a frenetic snow
globe
Though the lucky ones
Escape the chaos
Being driven on the wind
Into quiet corners
Or beneath hedgerows
The rest whirl like dervishes
Hither and thither
Until the rains
Turn them to mush under foot
Misty mornings
Start dim and dismal
Penetrating Dampness
Seeping into your bones
Some days it brightens later
Enough for shirtsleeves
Then when darkness falls
Curtains are drawn.
At the months beginning
Grass is still growing green
The trees are well covered still
Then leaves turn green to yellow
Yellow is burnished to gold
Gold to burning red
Then red to earth.
Beyond the equinox
Days have already become
More dark than light
Before the clocks fall back
And the sun sets sooner
Days of sunshine deceive
Sheltered pockets warm and confuse the senses
In the later days
When the residual warmth diminishes
The bite remains
To herald worse to come
In the autumn meadow
Everywhere was wet
with Dew
And highlighted in the tall grasses
Were a myriad of lustrous webs
waiting to reward their architects
For their industry and
patience
Beneath the dusky grey sky
Of low scudding
clouds,
The ambient air was
damp
Blown in from the west
On the same storm fed wind
That chased the clouds
Across the autumn sky
The mist cascaded down the hillside Like a maiden’s hair Tumbling onto her shoulders The bare branches of the birch trees Pierced ...