silver smiles

Wandering warily
through windy wiles
Stepping softly
amongst sun burned leaves
Strewn with gentle aplomb
across the forest floor

Fireflies dance in the cooler breeze
Crickets lamenting the death of the season
Under the heavy gaze of the night sky’s eye
This hale harvest moon that watches summer die

Harrowing calls
echoing beyond
those hallowed halls
As the sleepless tremble
fearfully against the colding touch of night
A haunting tune
drifting up from the hollow
Hand carved bone flute of fowl
The rest they did eat and swallow

They

While villages and cities long to sleep
They wander apart in darkness
Lamenting the death
Welcoming the birth
Of seasons long
And seasons deep

Fear not their passing
Their coming and going a heavy and suffocating veneer
A dream of a dream spread thickly across hearty bread
Leaving the lands of fallen leaves
Some are weeping
Some are laughing
Winter has come
Now that Summer is dead

Gypsy fires
Flutes and lyres
Magic in the passing
Of seasons
Of words
Of loves
As secretive doves
Passing with so pale a call
the hovels and huts of man
Forsaking civilization for the wild and wondrous land

Of unimagined delight
Genuine smiles and joyful wiles wandering around the fire
Speaking of Bism
Of Keven
Of the present glory at hand
Following promises and stars
To the place beyond Neverland

While shivering white adorns wagon wheels
And fallen leaves
They whisper with delight of the lingering isles
Trees bitten with frost
Wind weary boughs smiling silvery smiles