Growing Old

fall spirea

Gone the glow of verdant youth,

Fragile joints replace fresh stems;

Roughened bark succeeds the smooth,

Strength and power, spring’s bold gems,

Falter with the frost of age –

Stumble in the autumn breeze;

But, as Time turns weathered page,

Beauty brings us to our knees.

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Going for Gold

gold

Golden sun in golden sky,

Gold my dreams as geese fly by;

Thoughts which, draped in golden threads,

Tuck gold leaves in golden beds.

Days and months have come of age,

Golden words on gilded page;

Denouement of summer’s blush,

Autumn sighs, a golden hush.

Thanksgiving Parade

cranberry leaves

Pumpkins paint the garden coral,

Arbours don their Sunday best;

Grasses nod in shades of sorrel,

Geese sing hymns upon their quest.

Raindrops augment sweet perfume

As Autumn acts her great charade;

All of Nature stands in wonder,

Gives her thanks in loud parade.

Upon an Autumn Afternoon

smokebush mystery

Summer slowly rusts away in copper-plated sighs;

Flowers nod their heavy heads and curtsy their good-byes.

Wind discovers secret nests, undressing hidden lairs;

Leaves, ashamed, blush scarlet veins, and tiptoe down the stairs.