A NEW DAY

  The morning sang a lovely tune I’ve not heard in a while Light through the window panes cast a magical time. Off the bed, I bounced landing on waltzing feet. At last I had the gift I asked a quiet night, a restful sleep. Finally, I got to write a little poem again.  It

THE EARTH AS SHE GOES TO SLEEP (A Quadrille)

  When the trees are bare and leaves carpet the ground when the sun dims and cold grips your hand when the wind whistles and birdwings flap away don’t mourn nor drift about like a piteous sigh wait patiently I’ll wake up, by and by. ~~~ Whimsygizmo wants the Pub Habitues to use “Leaves” for