A difficult poem,one of my very old ones,which I'll be tossing out here for awhile, until I get my stride back. Hope it suits.
Fall Comes, With Quiet Changes The dying-time of Summer things has come; Leaves burn with color, fall with lessening light. The cadence of change beats on my heart's hollow drum, The Spirit of Fall descends with the cold of night. Youth's fire burns quietly now, No longer leaps high to low, Feeds my wisdom's tree, stronger, firmer fruit upon the bough As now the passion does not burn, but glows. Turning towards twilight, days spun out to their final thread A somehow colder, brighter sun Touches the last of summer's green, softening to red Alight, a landscape of life undone. Once more let the passion that ruled my soul, Inspiration showing forth in a silent shout Kindle the fire within the coal Escaping the grey sting of the storm without. Youth's mad energy is nearly spent But not the strength that lies below. The depth of meaning this Autumn's falling sent Will color my world to the dim time of the snows.
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