Leaves are falling as if it was its last,
but truthfully, its the beginning for a new sprout.
The twigs are talking to say it is time,
but fairly, time is only just a simple human theory.
The whirling wind whispers the name of Death,
but actually, those are just the sound of happy rustling leaves finally being brought away.
Fall; the wonderful season for Halloween
the most wonderful thing to be found here on earth.
Trick-or-treating gives a black toothing,
but the smiles never fades away.
How I'm happy that fall is reaching,
in rememberence of the ones that had lived.
Categories:
toothing, autumn, death, halloween,
Form: Personification
One by one your bones are stacked,
to hold back Mother Nature.
Or as a need for privacy,
a man made stone enclosure.
You turn a graceful curve around,
a walkway or a drive.
At times you are snap-line straight.
A Canvas for artistic eyes.
You end against a building wall,
or with columns as sentinel ends.
At times your left with toothings out,
so you may continue once again.
Be you cottage stone or slate flats,
created of rip rap or river rock.
Your rugged beauty ads some flair
and curb appeal around the block.
You lead the way, block a path.
Keep man out of danger.
You silently stand against time,
a stone faced, familiar stranger.
For the contest: A Toothful Ode
Sponsored by Nancy Jones
*note. Toothing. When a stone or brick wall is left
unfinished, with bricks or stones left jaggered at the end,
so the wall can be continued at a later time.
Categories:
toothing, nature,
Form: Ode