The maple trees turning to amber and bronze,
cool, brisk winds running through my hair;
Skies of blue changing to purple and gold,
as Autumn brings us her loving care.

Summer is gone now--we can't go back,
to the lazy sounds and warmth of the sea;
Standing near the beach on the eve of Fall,
ocean waves start to crash with ferocity.

Children skip off to school in sweaters,
and can soon see their breath in the air;
Pumpkins grow round and full in the garden,
ripe and ready for this year's County Fair.

Cornstalks emerge, tall and graceful are they,
the new harvest is about to begin;
With its honeyed apples, pears, and walnuts,
filling straw baskets to carry within.

There's never a time when Autumn fails,
its storms bring refreshing rains;
And the moon is golden and frosty at night,
after a crimson sunset of fiery flames.

This transition time between seasons,
is something we can all taste and touch;
It brings with it great hopes for tomorrow,
which we'll welcome and cherish so much.

With life's confusion and delusions,
and every day another quandary;
I feel as if I'm flying upward,
to escape all the pain and worry.

It takes a moment to realize,
how truly lovely the world can be;
Within the sky's reflection now,
wonderment is all I can see.

So why would I leave this place,
in order to melt into sadness ?
Why should I return to my home,
when upon me falls such gladness ?

Home is where the heart is,
as the saying surely goes;
But now that I'm up in the clouds,
my happiness is all that shows.

It comes in spurts, the words and the visions,
sometimes jumbled, and other times clear;
Fascinating stories to flesh out on paper,
images that haunt us from far and near.

Pick up that pencil and sketch the soul,
in phrases both mellifluous and mellow;
Continuing to erase, over and over again,
until the piece uncovers its intimate flow.

Resting, then wondering if thoughts relent,
pausing, then swirling inside your mind;
While taking a chance that others will get,
the message you've molded and left behind.

A fabulous thing to entertain our gifts,
regardless of what the outcome may be;
The torture of creativity can rule your heart,
yet the process leaves you open and free.

When children ask adults questions,
our answers seem to descend;
Into a melting *** of confusion,
secretly hiding all truths and trends.

We want to set things straight for them,
through our wonders and visions of light;
But often our words spawn more questions,
while wrestling with demons in the night.

There are many complex issues in life,
enough so, that we'd rather forget;
How the universe is changing quickly,
and we cannot handle our own regrets.

It's simple just to close the door,
and fill our lives with faint illusions;
Yet somehow the sun comes up each day,
reflecting more than our delusions.

Children deserve our forthright honesty,
despite the apparent horrors and dread;
And we'll find a way to cushion the fall,
sewing their thoughts with golden threads.

The only time I ever shared my dreams,
was when I felt I could trust my love;
To someone who would keep me safe,
and visualize those dreams from up above.

We'd talk into the wee hours of the night,
while eating pancakes and sausage at 3 AM;
I swore to myself to never let him go,
as we melted into one another like winter's snow

For life seemed so protected and fulfilled,
as if my heart was wrapped in cellophane;
The beating of it stirred my aching soul,
I was finally free from all the hurt and pain.

Simplistic it may seem but for many years,
the men I truly thought would treat me well;
Had turned on me as soon as they could fly,
so far away... as if they were under a spell.

But I knew this was quite different at the start,
someone genuine and real appeared before me;
And with his gentle manner and caring ways,
I could see our future lives pass right before me.

Once I passed by a child who was crying,
an ocean of tears dripping down her cheeks;
I had no way of knowing her dilemma,
she touched her lips as if she couldn't speak.

We wandered down the street to the bakery,
where I bought some milk and chocolate cupcakes;
Her ragged dress was smeared with oil and dirt,
she finally smiled when gobbling down the cake.

How many other children lay in wait for us,
to help them get their daily needs attended ?
We went to a nearby Thrift Store for some clothing,
and I found a little dress that needed mending.

I took her to my home and fixed the dress,
by that time her eyes began to shine;
I'd never seen such a look of gratitude,
and she took her hand and placed it into mine.

By now, this young lady is back with family,
the poorest of the poor they certainly are;
So when you see someone whose needs are ample,
please lend a hand and be their "superstar" !

Perhaps the moon is a prophet,
and the sun its sister;
Perhaps the grass could be greener,
and the clouds are just blisters.
And the rain is devilish in its daring,
and birds don't sing at all;
Perhaps Summer is really winter,
and Spring is really Fall.

'Round goes the carousel of life,
a kaleidoscopic backwards view;
That captures the imagination,
in seeing days and nights askew.

Perhaps we're all invisible,
just wraiths who've lost our way;
Perhaps blue is red and red is blue,
how can we know this isn't a game ?

Yet heaven dwells within us all,
God promised He would deliver;
a sunny day and rainy skies,
and cold that makes us shiver.

The world is ours, the world is His,
that's all we need to know;
Trust in faith for all humankind,
and the smallest hearts will glow...

Perhaps...