Ode To Autumn

Another half-turn complete Listen To the lazy jazzy beat Dying down. Trade winds sail The winter monsoon on its tail Time to sell those sunshine shares Time to pass on the rites of summer To those lovely fellas down under In the southern hemisphere. We exchange presents This time of the year. And so the artist prepares his paint: Two parts water, one part yellow, one part orange. His airy brush sweeps across the terrain Coating the leaves with shimmering golden rain. The rattling branches still beneath his soothing hand A crisp, crinkling choir of leaves sing as they softly land. He caresses the earth’s sunburnt skin He kisses my chapped, uplift chin. He sends the swallows soaring high Watching as they swoosh by in the clear blue sky Then multiply. With a smile he blows Lets out a mild autumn chill And catches the last dancing shadows On the amber field. Listen To the winding whistling melody Part three Of a year long symphony.