A lovely day, so quiet and still,
'neath azure sky, bedecked on high
with drifting cloudlets, lacey white,
like preenings from angelic wings.
I hear the sound of rustling leaves
of trees, once green for Summer's scene,
now clad in lovely autumn hues
that softly rival blooms of Spring.
The breeze disturbs a shower of leaves,
which fall to ground with no more sound
than whispered words of lovers, lost
in sweet embrace, and future plans.
My blissful dozing suddenly ends,
as cooling air drifts round my chair,
and shadows from the setting sun
remind me sharply, Winter's near.
Though Winter's chills are trials at times,
those beating rains on window pains,
and howling winds, are sweet to hear
when two are snugly warm with love.