A King In An Old Motorhome (poem) by John G Hutchinson on AuthorsDen

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A King In An Old Motorhome by John G Hutchinson Tuesday, October 07, 2003 Share Print Save Become a Fan Just a celebration of Fall...
The lake is a myriad of rippling glass On the mountains-fresh overnight snow I'm reminded how precious this spot really is Out of all of the places I go On this first day of fall in the mountains I'm a king in an old motorhome I am poor-but I'm rich with the beauty That I find in the places I roam And now God is painting my mountains In scarlett, in gold and in green A reminder the seasons are passing In a way that it always has been And my seasons pass along with them In a way that won't regenerate But in memory they'll live along with me 'Til I pass through that last one-way gate!

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Reviewed by ya mama (Reader)	10/8/2003

i dig the concept of this poem, and it is well written.




Reviewed by Claywoman	10/7/2003

His throne is the world! John, this is lovely! Fall in cold places is breath-taking! My first vision of my rez was in the fall and the colors were dazzling! Here, the leaves turn a sickly yellow and the next day brown with no lovely colors inbetween..




Reviewed by Mr. Ed	10/7/2003

Lovely poem, John. And this is a truly wonderful time of year.




Reviewed by Daniel McTaggart	10/7/2003

What is this power Autumn has to inspire such poetry more than all other seasons combined? It's my favorite season to write about. But I can only write about Autumn during Autumn! Nonetheless, I immensely enjoyed your poem. One question though. If you're the king, where is your throne?