In the gleam that twinkles in the fiery autumn leaves is

Where I shimmer in the maple is where God knows I’m His.

From the tingle of fall winds on my nape where bright sun shined;

Where there is light, there is always a shadow close behind....

Like gypsies in the wind, village square engulfed in wares.

Ragtag itinerate makers in makeshift stalls cheers

Young and old that reminence in scented beeswax

of gingerbread and elderberry jam that tax.

Creamy walnut plaques of cliches that hang on hooks.

Other man’s thoughts in varied sized bound tinted books.

Woven boots for tots and knitted scarves in warm hues

And rich petit fours of chocolat...

In a world of roses, be a part of rainbow .

Of ebony, begin anew and go with the flow.

Of blushing red, holding hands strolling down the aisle.

Of azure petals, your oneness brings one a smile.

Of salmon tint, mom is on pedestal in eyes.

Of milky hue, you see young love that never dies.

Of pastel orange, modesty hides what’s sincere.

May the fragrance of your spirit rise and forbear....

Pigeons pondered at the rusted park bench and cooed

As the ill fitted denim rustled , old man stewed

As coifed young lasses passed by with their beaus arms locked.

Tossing crumbs to eager birds, he at his life balked

“But where. is my happiness” he slowly mumbled

As a carousel of scenes dance in mind jumbled....

Clouds hovering in anger at the window sill;

Smoldering like a deep ocean beneath calm still,

Eyes roving hidden from Linda’s view as she made

Omelet that steamed as lid discarded with wet shade.

Apron stained with egg, she nestled it ‘tween toast

And placed it in front of distracted Paul engrossed....

Like ornaments in velvet, sparkle of each star,

Fallen from off its measure as a note drop far.

Soaring through the sky; racing downward to its end.

Skydiving into abyss in which maker it send....

The shown painter paints a very dreary scene

Of getting lost in grove of evergreen.

Grass stained denim in forest of daisies

When yon wind howls with moon in its phases.

Shirt disheveled when horizon leveled

As hiker frantic by wilds bedeviled.

A harried viewer drew her breath in shock

As she relived as the scene her grief mock....

The sky seemed to frown on the well tread garden path.

Harold felt a shiver as if he had witch’s wrath.

The gnarled maples trembled as he passed by the grove.

He felt like fly in spider’s silky web wove.

Something tickled his ear, but still nothing was there.

His shuffled steps pushed him into abyss somewhere...

The rift opened, dragging me with it.

Like two bright moons, cat’s eyes glowed a bit.

It preened before walking on its toes.

Caught in a tear in space, in place froze.

Twin stars glistened in sky on this plane.

Some nightmare as I gazed at beast bane....

Brian always hummingbird songs to all.

He was known as a warbler who’s on call.

It’s his stork and trade. He’s legal eagle.

He’d crow about bald eagle as regal.

He closely guarded the pelican brief.

After dancing the flamingo, he had grief.

His back’s sore and it’s robin him of sleep.

When he woke, he had grown wings. That’s real deep....