An Autumnal Sonnet
The naked night, the wailing wind;
leaves in their flight are summers end.
Betwixt occult and morning’s light
moon stands, it’s her birthright.
Ghost-nests revealed in abandoned limbs;
wind wails and peals its adieu hymns.
Birds left will feed on frozen meals;
squirrels will plead for fruity fields.
As Earth beds down for an annual sleep;
wear no frown no crawlies will creep.
Parchment colors paint the ground,
Fires for lovers will abound.
In autumn as the Vandyke leaves fall, lovers truly have a ball.
When winter’s cold molests the air, spiced rum and cocoa we’ll all share.
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