~Autumn Leaves~
By: Paula Cole
The autumn leaves drift by my window
The autumn leaves all red and gold
I see your lips
The summer kisses
The sunburned hand I used to hold
But since you went away
the days grow long
and soon now hear a winter song
But now I miss you most of all
My darling
And autumn leaves are starting to fall
The autumn leaves drift by my window
The autumn leaves all red and gold
I'll see your lips
The summer kisses
The sunburned hands I used to hold
But since you went away
the days grow long and soon now hear
a winter song
I miss you most of all
My darling
When autumn leaves start to fall
When autumn...
Treasures Of The Past
Visit Blondie's Site at
http://freepages.arts.rootsweb.com/~blondie/sets/index.html
MY SOUTHERN HOME
The quietness of a summer afternoon.
The only sounds are of crickets chirping
in the grass, a bird singing its lonely song
from the Magnolia tree, the wind playing
its' games among the leaves of the Willow tree.
Then from down the road, I hear the sounds
of children at play. I smile as I listen to their playful
chatter, their voices joining in laughter. A dog barks,
a car passes by, disturbing the once settled dust.
Sitting quietly in the afternoon shade, a book lying in my lap,
all but forgotten amid the sounds of summer, I watch as
colorful butterflies dance in the wind. A bee flies by my ear,
it's
buzzing almost hypnotic.
The world seems at rest, at peace
with itself.
All the world in harmony with nature.
Suddenly in the distance, I hear the sound of thunder,
a summer storm approaching. I look to the sky,
the soft, fluffy, lazy, pink clouds have turned dark overhead.
Suddenly lightning streaks across the once peaceful sky.
The first few drops of warm rain fall on and around me,
a warm summer rain which will quickly increase in intensity.
Thunder booms overhead and the heavens open.
Sheets of crystal cascade across the lawn, the fat heavy drops,
bouncing and dancing on the ground. The grass, the trees,
the flowers, drink thirstily. The almost dry creek
begins to gurgle, to come to life.
And as suddenly as it came, the storm is gone.
Moving quickly eastward, beyond the majestic
mountains,
leaving behind the fresh, sweet smells that only
Mother Nature
can provide. Over my head, the clouds again soften,
the sun peeks through,
a rainbow appears,
fresh, soft, reassuring colors.
God smiles on my Southern home.
~ Soft Poetry by Sand ~
"Original midi composition"
"Love In The Mist"
is used with permission
and is copyright © By Geoff Anderson
Copyright © 2000 Geoff Anderson
*
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