Frost On The Pumpkin

 

Summer closes her eyes,
And the sun falls to sleep.
Warm days say her goodbyes;
The sun fades from his peak
Like a half century photo.
Then, Autumn seizes control.

The hours of daylight shorten now.
Mature foliage takes a bow
As shimmering, glimmering leaves
Rain down on frozen ground of trees.

Water vapor collects, freezes
On objects bare and exposed,
Like deposits of feathery ice
That drips when faces of warmth squeezes.

The “Frost on the Pumpkin’s”
Season is near.
The Big One, The Big One;
Heed His call, hear.



Carol Dee Meeks
carmks@excite.com
     http://home.midsouth.rr.com/kmhomepage/index.html

 

 

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