Go ahead and feel the breezes,
brought to us by the wind and rain;
As the rustling leaves tell their stories,
some of joy and some of pain.
They whisper nightly as dark descends,
upon our sleepy little town;
Forgive me now, they'll often ask,
not wanting to be left alone.
Tears drip softly from those trees,
as their leaves let go and fly;
To the yard in which the children play,
in crisp bundles on a hill so high.
Their laughter permeates the air,
as each child decides to climb;
Yet the rustling leaves feel safe now,
while finding their place in time.
Crackling red the autumn glows,
a roaring fire in every tree;
Brisk waters from the rain above,
can not dampen their energy.
For Nature gives its soul to us,
from visions that often stay;
Within our hearts for countless years,
and never drift far away.
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
Go ahead and feel the breezes,
brought to us by the wind and rain;
As the rustling leaves tell their stories,
some of joy and some of pain.
They whisper nightly as dark descends,
upon our sleepy little town;
Forgive me now, they'll often ask,
not wanting to be left alone.
Tears drip softly from those trees,
as their leaves let go and fly;
To the yard in which the children play,
in crisp bundles on a hill so high.
Their laughter permeates the air,
as each child decides to climb;
Yet the rustling leaves feel safe now,
while finding their place in time.
Crackling red the autumn glows,
a roaring fire in every tree;
Brisk waters from the rain above,
can not dampen their energy.
For Nature gives its soul to us,
from visions that often stay;
Within our hearts for countless years,
and never drift far away.