To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Time Passing Late evening and a silver sky Is all that's left. The colors die And every leaf on every tree, Is etched in blackest filigree. It's morning and the world awakes. Mist rises from the woods and lakes And all too soon, the summer's gone. Some vestiges still linger on, But in the breeze, I hear her sigh In mournful tones, "Goodbye, goodbye!" The afternoon is tinged with gold, As autumn uses colors, bold, In one last fling, before she flies From winter's cold and icy eyes. Time passing makes no slightest sound, But in the aftermath is found Some changes she has left behind, For us, with rueful thoughts, to find. |
Additional Notes:
From: <LODGE999@aol.com>
Date: Wednesday, January 12, 2000 4:25 PM
Betty Hebert
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!