Sunday, October 25, 2009

Beneath the dogwood tree


When the trees their summer splendor
Change to raiment red and gold,
When the summer moon turns mellow,
And the nights are getting cold;
When the squirrels hide their acorns,
And the woodchucks disappear;
Then we know that it is autumn,
Loveliest season of the year.

~Charlotte L. Riser~


Jasmine said...

A beautiful poem and picture.
Do you write poetry? I've tried a couple of times but when there is something in me bursting to get out rather than a contemplated attempt...

Delphyne said...

Thanks, Jasmine. I have written poetry in the past - usually free form, not rhyme.

When you need to write, write what comes naturally. It's getting the feeling out and expressed that matters most - it will find its own form.