Yes, Autumn happened long before,
I just began to notice then.
Sit back, I’d like to tell you more…
To make us culturally aware,
Our Mom would haul us once a week,
To Mrs. Sproad of the greying hair,
For music lessons. So to speak.
Each time, I’d sweat my half an hour,
On piano bench. With tongue in teeth,
When brother sat, I got to scour
The farm. From barns to distant heath.
With collie, Princess, by my side,
I wandered out wher’er I could.
Through grasses long and leaves all dried,
Just two of us there in the woods.
The sounds, the smells I can’t forget,
The crisp and spicy odors pleased,
If I could, I’d be there yet,
Running through the crunchy leaves.
With Princess and her ringing bark,
My trustworthy companion, she,
A furry, friendly matriarch
Who now is just a memory.
So now each time I smell those smells,
Or find myself knee deep in leaves,
The memories, I can’t dispel,
The magic. On my heart it breathes.
Each month, Karen of Baking in a Tornado issues a challenge to her fellow poetically-minded bloggers.
Here's a theme.
This month's theme? Fall.
For me, another opportunity to go back to one of my fondest memories...
Here's what our other poets have concocted:
Karen of Baking in a Tornado: Fall Poetry
Dawn of Spatulas On Parade: Fall or Autumn, Which one do we call ya?
Jules of The Bergham Chronicles: Falling Into You
Candice of Measurements of Merriment: Witchy Women