Leaves fall in a color show;
the Fourth of July of November.
Fragrant air from the freshly cut fields
recall scenes of girlhood hayrides.
Let's go build a bonfire
to roast hotdogs and marshmallows.
We aren't too old for a little fun
it will keep us young for always will our
actions repeat our first in-love activities.
Horseback riding one more time
racing back to the barn.
We can wait till the trees are bare
to rake all the leaves and have a “leaf fight”
replacing pillow fights when it gets too cold
to play outside in the first snow.
A contest entry
- poems tell stories by Virgoan.
1200 points, ended November 11, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I haven't felt the cold of snow of winter but I must say that this piece let me feel that. There is inner silence here that I like. Definitely a finalist.
Thanks for sharing.
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