As with the dying rays of the late day
Flowing through the thinning boughs
Of the Maples, the Oaks and the Birch
A glimmering sense of introspection
Sparks longings and passions
Desiring the pleasures of autumn’s color
To sustain the affair and yet,
Understanding that nothing remains
Unchanged nor will it be requited by a wistful wish.
Their hold of the sunlight and her warmth -
One must forget the urgencies of spring
And the swoons of summer so to leave
Their precious moments to romance
For the stoic says, ‘bring in the wood
And prepare the fireplace and hearth
To keep the cold at bay”.
As November’s falling days
Slip away into the gray somber skies
Filled with galleons of menacing clouds
Driven by the biting gales off the cold waters
Of the mighty lake -
A candle light dances along the walls
As hot ginger tea simmers a winter’s plea:
What must we be to see - another bee?
