Like Leaves

 Winter

Tiny buds filled with life’s promise

Cling tightly to their tree.

Around them chilly snowflakes fall,

yet they are safe from freeze.

 Springtime

Sunlight is irresistible.

Bright spots of green burst forth.

Pink blossoms are their new playmates

as life they do explore.

 Summer

With supple stems and glowing skin

Into the green they  blend.

Paying no attention to time,

into the wind they bend.

 Autumn

Cool nights, sunlight is most welcome.

Green now turns to yellow,

burnished crimson or pumpkin orange

Bodies become brittle.

 Indian Summer

As they skitter across the streets

Leaves rejoice with learned reason.

Above them tiny buds are born

For all things, there is a season.

by Tomi Fratto © (used with permission)
Notes From The Author: You may e-mail me
with any comments about my poetry.

If You Were Coming In The Fall

If you were coming in the fall

I'd brush the summer by

With half a smile and half a spurn

As housewives do a fly

If I could see you in a year

I'd wind the months in balls

And put them into separate drawers

Until their time befalls

If only centuries delayed

I'd count them on my hand

Subtracting 'till my fingers dropped

Into Van Diemen's land

If certain when this life was out

That yours and mine should be

I'd toss life yonder like a rind

And taste eternity

But now all ignorant of length

Of times uncertain wing

It goads me like the goblin bee

That will not state its sting

By: Emily Dickinson

It Started In The Wink Of Fall

It started in the wink of fall, after the summer rain,

The one that consumes the leaves

And washed the sun equinoxically down some drain

I was searching for my life when he appeared before me

My heart skipped a beat of time

He wore the smile of children

playing all day long

His voice became a melody of a song that I should write

And everything he seemed to be glowed radiant that night

From that day on the summer rains grew partisan to our love

Which came to us from fields harvested by God above.

Robins sang sweetly

In the Autumn days,

"There are fruits for every one

Let all give Praise!"

Traditional Nursery Rhyme

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Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison

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