The Autumn of life
Like the season
May be clad in beauty
But blessedly unlike the season,
It holds and can long last
Winter then steals in
but unwanted
Overstaying its use
Save the first blanket of snow
Prayers are for it fleeting

Comes warmth and light to sire your name
With blue and orange and red
Comes stalwart as a white hot flame
Where the wicked dare not tread

A loving Titan did then conspire
Not giving second thought
Defied a God and gave us fire
Though misery was his lot

Much is written and at great length
Of where true beauty lies
It's in the wisdom and the strength
That dance in Julia's eyes

Between the lines and faded pages
I tried to read blurred words
Of all the now forgotten sages
And for what their portent girds

A chapter for the innocent
And the simply reasoned pact
Written ironclad as their covenant
Sold as 'it is written' fact

A long passage spoke of virtue
As if it's for the choosing
A uniformly clannish stew
For which there's no refusing

A word of love made up a phrase
That warmed my lonely heart
I'll carry it for all my days
As an imperfect art

A sentence then did run on
It seemed to not abate
A web that it was spun on
Was made from wanton hate

The epilogue was too unclear
For resolve did I then *****
If just to ease my troubled fear
To find a word of hope

There falls a simple drop of rain
Upon a lime green fern
A blessed link of ancient chain
That takes its rightful turn

A precious breath of earnest air
That fills a grateful breast
Needn't say a wishful prayer
To hold it to its quest

The heavens steeped in fickle blue
Hold up a captive Sun
The dawn so old but ever new
A canvas left undone

(The Students of Parkland)

A brave young heart that's never sinned
Is caused to take the helm
Tired echoes baffled by the wind
Are exiled from the realm

A brave young voice sings clear and strong
A song that will be learned
A simple tune of right and wrong
For which we've too long yearned

Through dew-filled coddling earth
raised toward a siring sun
my longing arms confirm my birth
in a measure just begun

With verdant sinew lithe and strong
my feet grip firm the ground
entrenched in land where I belong
to each beloved sound

Upon an arbitrary breeze
in every thread that's spun
a secret kept by ancient trees
is told when Autumn's done

The rising sun and fickle moon
etch an ever artless slate
until my withered stem is hewn
by an ageless, common fate