Whistle A Tune
The sunlight doesn't seem as bright as before,
while Autumn's warmth is fast fading away.
And ominous grey clouds bring rains that pour:
sending kids scurrying inside to play.
Fall's exquisite colored leaves fall from sight,
till no trace remains; their beauty is brief.
And day relinquishes its length to Night,
as trees stand naked, not a single leaf.
The honking geese are all migrating south,
along with most of our precious songbirds.
And, daunting rumors, spread by word of mouth,
whisper, winter's near, in so many words.
While wailing winds start to whistle a tune
that warn winter flurries are coming soon.
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