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Poem

Every season         I think is my favorite
until autumn      comes painting the trees
oh Autumn you are such delight
carpeting forests with colored leaves

Oh clouds who         the sun do hide
the wind move's your cotton puffs
these such times our cherished days
where the weather's goes turning rough

Fading are the days whose warmth
will emerge        to the rising chills
and trees    undress their lofty boughs
standing naked       upon barren hills

the colors of the fields        are fading
the sky dawns        with a dusky hue
the fledgling rain        in it's delivery
stays the grasses wet with it's dew

You've redressed the bounds and landscapes
and the sunsets         have started to blush
birthing all the rhythms              in nature
and of seasons transforming their flush

The sunlight's zenith will be shedding
exchanged         for the blankets and veils
where the finery of your mountain valleys
wear ash gray         along with your dales

The cauldron of life's ever stirring
expression is cooked      on it's range
the shades of the paintings dynamic
and it's canvas always subject to change

Like spices            you alter the flavors
of the years ever changing their gown
where the fare you serve on times table
finds the trail          to joy you lead down

all rights reserved
2017 Poetry of Providence
C. Michael Miller

Ecc 3:1 For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under heaven:

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