Current poems in progress...
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Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall
They're all my seasons, I love them all.
Except the one that's in between.
You dirt road folks know what I mean.
When days are warm and nights are freezin'
Then comes the time we call Mud Season
And tho we gripe about the "Goo"
We really kind of like it, too.
The dark clouds billowed across the gray sky,Add to commentary
as if pushed by some long-forgotten evil force.
Is this a gray precursor to the things to come
as the cold dark winter sets its cruel course
The last of the leaves are ripped from the trees
as they try to camouflage themselves from winter.
In their bright array, they are brought to their knees
and lie in piles of reds, greens, yellows and gold's
The late fall breeze tries to assist their futile effort
by swirling them to a forgotten corner of the yard.
They try to hide under a broken branch on the ground,
but the cold winter is always on its snowy guard.
At first, a few snow flakes parachute lightly to the Earth
like some advance guard for the first hard winter snow
in the night, the earth is invaded by a white blanket
winter is here; even the sun is only a soft yellow glow.
snowflakes parachuting is a beautiful image. Thanks.