Yes, it is that time of year and every time Autumn arrives, it seems like "the first time" and we see it with new eyes, as you have so beautifully done in this poem, indeed our "paint palette blurs, but yours not by much.
Incoming is the snow,
Off the lake it does grow,
Extra food and water you must stow,
For when it finally comes its gonna be a big mother of a blow...-e-
Explore the mystery of how nature makes unexpected gifts of creative wonders to an unsuspecting caregiver one late night and early morning in southeastern Georgia, USA.
Your poem is a reminder of the beauty and purpose of leaves. If only all of our lives would cycle with such glory!
Ron
Regis
A beautiful palette so defined are the hues.
Snow, especially the first of the season!
Sweet pen dear friend.
Lady Mary Ann
Off the lake it does grow,
Extra food and water you must stow,
For when it finally comes its gonna be a big mother of a blow...-e-