Friday, November 01, 2019

Autumn Doggerel


The leaves are off the old Silver Maple out behind ...

Many stripped off by the Halloween wind.

A yellow and brown carpet cover over our meager acres,

Promising rewards for our granddaughter rakers.

And I long for that acrid sweet smell of burning leaves.

Can be likened to a pyre for the denuded trees.

This made up for our loss of sunny, sandy beaches,

Red ripe tomatoes and juicy peaches.

Get out the goose-down quilt and comfy woolen sweater.

I hope the furnace makes it through the winter.

Our garden has gone to sleep for a long cold while.

I pray I’m here when it wakens with the daffodil.

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