Five "Autumn Thoughts"
by Joan Adams Burchell
Two Beautiful Photos by Michael (see the other one below)
When gems of summer look tired and sad, we clean up reluctantly;
When autumn colours replace summer's
jewels, it happens gradually.
By the time summer's packed and
put away, warm russetts and reds catch our eye;
Crimson and gold step softly in
and we haven't had time to spy.
When we watch flocks of geese flying
south, suddenly all is clear;
The seasons have changed in the
blink of an eye - the fall of the year is here.
When we take a deep breath of crisp
autumn air, it's a tonic and a relief,
And we know we have secretly waited
for this - the season that's hallowed, but brief.
Stately spruce, green balsam and
pine accentuate amber and cream;
And when coloured leaves float
silently down they're a blanket on which we can dream
Of pumpkin and spice, and family,
gathered around the fire,
Mesmerized by autumn's treasures
- all that a heart could desire.
There's something about the last
cut of summer - whether it's early or late;
Summer has faded and colours of autumn have raced in at a breathtaking
Call me nostalgic or maybe a fool as I push the mower slowly and
The rows, neat and even and ever-so green - cutting grass, to
me, is a cure.
The mower all cleaned out and put safely away - where did the
summer months go?
I'll miss the sweet smell of fresh-cut grass; there isn't a smell
Snow! Oh no! Can I do it this year? It's harder to shovel than
But when the time comes and I'm knee-deep in white I'll try shovelling
row upon row.
Jack Frost will be nipping at fingers and toes and I'll end up
all icy and wet,
But with each row I shovel I'll think of the green and vow summer
I'll never forget.
It seems like only yesterday the
Canada geese flew north;
Today, they're headed south again - so quickly back and forth.
Spring and summer have faded away and autumn now is here;
Then comes winter's icy blast and mountains of snow appear.
Time travels on, so never fear - spring will be reborn,
And once again we'll watch the geese and hear each honking horn.
A multi-coloured tapestry lay upon
My feet skipped over brown pinecones
and red maple-leaves spread 'round.
My nose was tickled with allergen
wood smoke hanging, still, in the air;
I pictured a cozy family scene
and tho' I sneezed, didn't care.
Aroma escaped from an open window
- mouth-watering apple pie,
And I could taste the apples and
spice and heard myself give a sigh.
The crisp air was biting on my
cheeks and my pockets sheltered my hands;
Birds were rendering their late-day
song here and across these lands.
Children, together, were coming
from school, chatting all the way;
My dog welcomed me as I opened
my door; little things made a good day.
Clam-shaped clouds against the blue, as white as white can be,
Arranged in a soft and quilt-like pattern, inviting us to see.
I often watch, throughout the day, the quick-change artist flee
From sand, hills, and tiny lakes, so angel doves I see.
One day I felt I could climb upon a horse, fast-footed and white;
Today, I'd like to snuggle beneath that quilt of blue and white.