October
Days
Grey and thick the
fog descends.
Its muted shades
of grey
Diffuse October's
morning light
And wrap around
the day.
I feel its chill
along my spine
As I head out the
door,
A signal to cool
Autumn winds
To even up the score
Of summer days that
baked the earth
Just two short weeks
ago.
Beneath the fog,
the crimson leaves
Get ready for their
show.
As sun breaks through,
the mists reveal
The lightest touch
of lace,
The sheerest hint
of Autumn's tears
Upon October's face.
The seasons change
hands magically,
From green, to red
and gold,
A feast for senses,
to prepare
Us for the Winter's
cold.
© 2003 Pam H. Murray
The
Young Tree
The young tree felt
the river
Through the soil
beneath its weight.
It drew the moisture
through its roots.
It seemed to contemplate
Its life cycle from
soil to root,
To trunk, to leafy
height.
I'm sure it shook
and spread itself
To gather up more
light.
A bird approached
to rest a while.
I heard the young
tree laugh,
Or was it just the
summer breeze
That whispered on
its behalf?
I settled down beneath
the tree.
It spread its cooling
shade.
I smiled, contented
just to share
The bower that it
had made.
© 2003 Pam H. Murray
aka rhymetimeblue
