"Those who labour in the earth are the chosen people of God" — Thomas Jefferson
The swallow has gone, Flown away, so has its mellow song And so forth we go, into bluer skies—indigo Tempts drift further till tepid Southern shades should not bid Amid its alibi is incidence, sun shrinks in appearance Grayest shadows deepen The first cool breezeway creeps in Much warmth shall be ebbing, heralding winter's woolen webbing I count my blessings of summer’s endings: Abundance of sunshine so bright Zephyrs on a tender August night Book clubbing with best of friends, Labor Day weekend marks summer’s end As Summer ends Fall shall begin, and what joyful gifts a winding wind against glistening skin Autumns kiss of this kind, an earthly bliss entwined And when the swallow returns, no longer summer yearns no longer summer yearns
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
