An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Daily Archives: September 7, 2011

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Ever keep hidden cloaks.
.
Concealed, covered up disguise
.
Clandestine dark act
.
.

.
Hypnotic  they said
.
mesmerizing, in the spring.
.
Waste of trees, I said.
.
.

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Fall In the Air
.
Can you tell by the smell in the air

that fall is just around the corner?
Sigh.
It is so.
.
I can’t decide if it is because of all the rain,
dampening the perfumes of flowers,
or because the delicious aroma of summers
blooms have been spent.
The dying plants, have no odor, yet:
just faded drying brown, and yellow leaves.
Does Goldenrod have a perfume to add to 
the air?
I don’t think so !
Just golden beauty to brighten the 
fields where the flowers once delighted.
.
Goldenrod,
the sign of fall in new bouquets.
Tickles some noses
with flying pollen,
and lots of sneezing to those
it affects.
.
The smell of burning leaves
by those who burn not mulch !
The smell of burning leaves
reminds me of fall,
bagged up leaves,
hope for spring to come again
for feeding the new growth
after fall’s sights and smells,
and winter’s wrath
start the cycle of life
over again.
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