Autumn's Childhood Eve........

I stood there as the night came down
In soft magenta tones
And suddenly I heard a sound
Upon the cobblestones
An echo of a distant day
Came flooding over me
The sound of boys and girls at play
In autumn’s childhood eve

Shouts and ripples of laughter
From the hill that I called home
I gaze at the emerald pasture
Where once I loved to roam
I could go and walk there now
It wouldn’t be the same
But I’ll stand here as memories flow
Of childhoods evening

Carpet on carpet of red, orange and gold
The tonic of crisp, country air
Reveling in the autumnal cold
In a bliss that comes without care
The scent of a wood-fire tingeing the wind
The wind tingeing each rosy cheek
In autumn’s childhood evening
Ah, suddenly I cannot speak

Autumns childhood evening
Surely life’s briefest dance
We answered youth’s fair beckoning
Without a second glance
But now I pause a little while
And hear its tender song
It washes over me; I smile
I hear children laughing; I go home

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

This little valley used to be home.
Now home is just above this little valley.