Autumn days along Port wood-row In search of the morning fiery glow of frosted moors Recalling the doors of my very soul to the crackle - of frozen lakeshore , the infusion of frigid visible breath in resplendent newborn sunshine , the rhyme of windswept Pine , the rapport of Woodpecker and calling Finch , reflections of Carolina blue sky o'er Gods placid , mirrored waters Home of steaming evergreen bottomland and rock bass river dancers , November leaves sailing the script of the Alabama western wind , the regal prance of Whitetail Deer to the Mourning Dove euphonic call and answer* ..
Copyright October 26 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved