By David Smith October 30, 2009
The trees and paths a fall wonderland;
Leaves like snow as it covers the sand.
A richness of reds and yellows and greens;
Leaves drift against the cars and in between.
A poet could not but stop and appreciate;
The colours of nature, the rainbow it makes.
Observing the street all covered in leaves;
Bedding down for winter, a past summer we grieve.
Now to take inventory, work on the strengths.
So that in spring; new birth gives us length.
Eyeing the leaves as the summer is gone.
Capture the beauty, the timing in song.