PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The calendar says it's no longer summer.

The warm nights beginning to chill.

Soon the days grow shorter,

the light dwindling,the nights so long.



The winds have begun whipping branches,

trying to dislodge leaves already dying, drying.

Soon the colors of fall embrace the hillsides,

orange, gold, and red a final blaze of glory.



Next month they will fall covering the green grass

in the soft brown of autumn, beautiful at the end of life.

Its time again for pumpkins and frost,

and the rustling crispness of  piles of autumn leaves.



Light the match that brings a slow curl of smoke

softly from the pile, no wind disturbing its ascent.

Soon the crackle of twigs popping with heated excitement

bring forth smokey flames leaping, dancing, frolicking.



As you steal up behind me my heart leaps,

surprised by a touch, then comforted by an embrace.

Warm, strong hands ....wind chilled fingers,

co-habitate your pockets, seeking warmth.



Whispers in my ear speaks my exact thoughts

and brings forth a smile.... Yes,  and hot apple cider!

The smell of wood smoke, apples and cinnamon

bring cheer to final hours of an autumn afternoon.



Just sitting under the hickory, cozy side by side,  

watching the last few embers burn to ash.