Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Fall Poetry


The nights are long and the days are shorter,
The wind does blow and the trees change color.
While the rocks and the trees of evergreen
Change they not or so it seem.

The sky is blue, but oft turn gray.
clouds they come but then go away.
Leaves they rustle like deer walking
Stoke up the fire, tis time for talking.
Come to the fire, it is time for talking