Learn the truth. Implement the truth. Save America!

Arthur L. Farnsworth's Internet Site

Virtue, liberty, and independence.

Fall

by Arthur L. Farnsworth

Friday, 30 October 2009

Here's a seasonal poem written for my niece.

Fall.  Fall?

It hasn't seemed like fall at all.
Some leaves have fallen, but surely not all.
When they all fall I know it's fall.

Temperature warm.
Sun on my arms.
I'm not on the beach "catching rays,"
but we still have days
where the sun warms my face.

It's not been very cold.
The rain's caused mold
on my house's aluminum siding.

I know it's football season,
but that's not the reason
I say "It's fall,"
especially now that I have no T.V. at all.

Until yesterday the above I did say,
but now I'm changing my tune.
The skies are now gray and it's colder today,
so fall must be moving in soon.

Leaves once green turning yellow and brown.
Leaves once living falling down.
Leaves once way up high littering the ground.
Leaves now dead make a rustling sound.
Leaves once pretty, decorating trees
are now raked into piles, some high as one's knees.
Leaves cover roadways and sidewalks and grass;
Leaves fly this way and that with every car that does pass.

My heat just came on and
the shadows are long.
Yes, I'm a year older, but
the weather is getting colder.

Fall?  Fall.

Thanksgiving and football and family and food.
From heaven above come all things which are good.
As autumn unfolds and we look all around us,
let us marvel at God's creation, with which he surrounds us.

Fall!