Oct-over Song

The fields have been garnered

Hills relinquish red

The glory of nature

Is bowing Her head

The passion of posies

Submits to repose

Back road daisy havens

Subdued and morose

The sweep of Time’s Swansong

Permeates the air

Where what was leaf-laden

Is muted and bare

As dreamers look forward

But nostalgic hearts

Look back with love’s longing

At all Time imparts

Where Death seems the victor

And earth seems a tomb

Instead of a haven

That harbors spring’s bloom

Where all that was giddy

With laughter, leaf-wild

Is weaned from the tresses

Like youth from a child

And no one can conquer

Though we may rebel

At the Supremacy

Pervading the dell

And filling fervency

With sighs, bittersweet

October is over

It lies at our feet

© Janet Martin

"Oh", sighs Victoria as we are driving this morning, "I wish I could paint".

We are drinking in the sorrow-beauty of almost barren trees.

"A pen is the most wonderful paint-brush in the world", I tell her.