The Mistress of Word Play

The grass once lush and green lies sleeping,
and the sky once blue has gone to weeping.
All the oak and maple trees are sleeping,
as a new season advances, comes creeping.

Honeysuckle vines once alive filled with bloom,
hang tattered and torn on nature's loom.
Leaves crackle, stiff as the bristles on a broom,
and all of nature seems filled with gloom.

Yet here the first tiny crystals do fall,
and dust the top of the garden's bare wall.
Pure, clear, clean beauty set to enthrall,
and in good time snow will cover all.

Caught in the pristine, crisp, new flakes,
which cover all of autumn's mistakes,
the snow is sent, a fleeting vision awakes,
as a new season its dramatic entrance makes.


















SultryRose's Signatures