No humor for this blog although you might find my stab at poetry humorous. If you do, kindly keep it to yourself Just kidding..I can take the abuse.
For my 21,915th trip around the sun, I am sharing a poem I wrote several years ago about the best season of all, Fall.
There is just something about the fall that makes me feel different. It makes me feel better, alive, reflective, young, and in some cases, melancholy. Fall just does it all for me.
FALL
The simple-minded leaf, changes its color,
separating itself, one from the other.
Very common in nature, so blended in green, cycled its life,
it now demands to be seen.
An Elm, Aspen, Pecan or an Oak,
Changing its colors, our memories it will stoke.
It gives up its life of simple green, but before falling to it’s death,
Will give off colors, a delight to be seen
For a few moments in time, that is measured in fractions,
what once was bland, now becomes the star of the attraction.
It spends most of its time, in harmonious obscurity,
but given the nod by time, it bursts to life with maturity.
No longer a place that shelters us from the sun,
but a place to enjoy, what now has begun
What has begun, breathes the chill of cool air,
exhaling the summer and demanding we stare.
Reflecting of times, at a beach house or a lake,
it reminds us what we’ve enjoyed, the new memories we must make.
Times that began with planned flights or a trip,
a vacation with the family, by air, land or by ship.
We take in its colors and breathe in all that it offers,
the cool morning air and the joy that fills our coffers.
We stow away the toys of the life-giving heat,
we breathe in so clear, and let mother nature compete.
A warm campfire is soon to be lit,
Edge close to your love, and enjoy a warm beverage too sip.
Remember a time that you held a hand so sweet,
a ride full of passion with a hay bale as your seat.
Only a flash in the time that really does count,
but a relief from life’s pressure, that clearly does mount.
A jacket or sweater might be all that is needed,
providing a warmth from the chill, as summer has receded.
The real chill will come after all the leaves have dropped.
Signaling to all that winter, refuses to be stopped.
The weather will turn and the snow will soon fall,
Christmas will arrive, as Father time looms tall.
We enjoy each moment, collecting each one and all,
but perhaps some of fondest… are when the summer meets the Fall.