I walk out to the garden
in the morning again
ahhh how I feel winter's bone
while yes it is August
an it's hotter an hell
but I hear that cold wind
just a-moan
an just a tinge of bittersweetness
in how fast time has flown
and why is it I
that must always now
roam?
an why is it my
leaf that's always windblown?
sigh
but I know
no use just to wonder
I must just embrace the unknown
and yes as my aging bones
they ache too
an I feel the pangs
of missing
the sunshine an warm,
as the winds are a-changin
an the coldness now hangs
those crystalized skies
to soon form
but sigh that's alright
for Autumn comes first
in beauty to see
here unrivaled
our winter is harsh
tho poetically so,
it's the way of my life
my survival
through perilous times
conditions too much
I have now have learned to be stoic
an my father was too
to rarely complain
an I thought my dad was heroic
he worked long and hard
conditions or not,
at least in of what I remember
an his favorite of times
well it was the fall
starting here early September,
the pies and the pumpkins
the laughter and leaves
in smells and in sights to delight
the colorous splendor
awaiting the drift
covering the mountains in white
so bring on the winds
and the beautiful leaves
as everything dead becomes new
in everything seen
and in seasons to pass,
as I am reminded of you
I say a most sincere
and grateful thank you for my life.
Ma Cherie © 2017
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 9:47 AM UTC
I walk out to the garden
in the morning again
ahhh how I feel winter's bone
while yes it is August
an it's hotter an hell
but I hear that cold wind
just a-moan
an just a tinge of bittersweetness
in how fast time has flown
and why is it I
that must always now
roam?
an why is it my
leaf that's always windblown?
sigh
but I know
no use just to wonder
I must just embrace the unknown
and yes as my aging bones
they ache too
an I feel the pangs
of missing
the sunshine an warm,
as the winds are a-changin
an the coldness now hangs
those crystalized skies
to soon form
but sigh that's alright
for Autumn comes first
in beauty to see
here unrivaled
our winter is harsh
tho poetically so,
it's the way of my life
my survival
through perilous times
conditions too much
I have now have learned to be stoic
an my father was too
to rarely complain
an I thought my dad was heroic
he worked long and hard
conditions or not,
at least in of what I remember
an his favorite of times
well it was the fall
starting here early September,
the pies and the pumpkins
the laughter and leaves
in smells and in sights to delight
the colorous splendor
awaiting the drift
covering the mountains in white
so bring on the winds
and the beautiful leaves
as everything dead becomes new
in everything seen
and in seasons to pass,
as I am reminded of you
I say a most sincere
and grateful thank you for my life.
Ma Cherie © 2017
