Fall

It is the eve of mid enchantment
As the bitter winds come to call
The rustling of the treetops
As the leaves begin to fall
Covering the landscape
Gripped by the bitter cold

Once this land was green
Crimsons, browns, and yellows
Now it seems the warmth of summer
Surrenders to the bitter cold

Shifting sands and pouring rains
Across this native land
White peaks cover our mountains
The streams become raging rivers
Driven by the pouring rains

Then a moments silence
Then the first snow of the season falls
Coverings of white across our native land
It's the eve of changing seasons
It is the bitterness of fall

| Poetry 1 | Poetry 2 | Poetry 3 | Poetry 4 |

| Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |

| Poetry 9 | Poetry 10 | Poetry 11 | Poetry 12 |

| Poetry 13 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy