Chasing the sun across the sky
this is the time where leaves will die
turning, burning, in maple red
an extra quilt upon your bed.
The harvest readies what it has grown
among the fields where seeds are sown
darkened skies greet dinner plate
shadows lengthen and seasons race.
The wood stove smolders, the kindling burns
as the season starts to turn
and witches race across the sky
to mark the place where summer died.
Autumn readies for what lies ahead
the pantry's full, our tummies fed
as Old Man Winter starts to climb
upon the back of Father Time.
Mary is prepping the pub as we write for her hosting debut on the dVerse stage. Sending warm waves of welcome and huge PoetLove :) I'll be tied up for most of the evening but look forward to returning to see what my favorite season has prompted from the pens of the Poets who take the stage for Poetics every week