murmur busily to the trees,
singing final songs of summer
before the winter's freeze.
Harvest fields are busy
with the labor of field hands
gathering in the harvest
from a bountiful free land.
Overhead the cries
of graceful flights of geese
giving song to Autumn's peace.
Broad fields of hay and pumpkins
are everywhere in view,
and brightly tinted forests
blush with the morning's dew.
It's again that magic time
that marks the summer's end,
when, before the grip of winter,
Autumn's colors paint the land.
| FEEDBACK, you just write friend, you'll get all the feedback you need, this was a wonder.||| Posted on 2011-04-17 00:00:00 | by DUSTYTU | [ Reply to This ] || Thanks for sharing, it reminds me of all the things that are good about Autumn and it reminds me of home. I really liked the sound words, I think too often they are pushed to the side, and it was nice having that sense included. ||| Posted on 2010-12-09 00:00:00 | by isis_lenore | [ Reply to This ] || Simply lovely!|
The joy and beauty of autumn are here in your poem: the bounty of harvest, busily murmuring leaves, the movement of time (and geese!) along their appointed courses.
What a wonderful tribute to a nostalgic time of year!
(to me fall speaks more to the passing of the year than new year's eve...making it my time of nostalgia and melancholy memories)
Well done, Ron!
|| Posted on 2010-10-16 00:00:00 | by latentlylyrical | [ Reply to This ] || The transformation from summer to autumn, sure is one of life's real miracles. Your words express this perfectly Ron.......a real joy to read as always.|
|| Posted on 2010-10-15 00:00:00 | by Frank Maguire | [ Reply to This ] |