Fall sheds its chameleon leaves
as folk, their fallen summer, grieve.
On dying leaves new colors grown,
among the last that summer's shown,
shine gold among neglected bowers;
Stealing eyes once wooed by flowers.
The dazzling spawn of parent fall
has draped earth with its vibrant shawl.
Though wrinkled brows are crowned with white,
they often top eyes, twinkling bright,
and like those rocking, clinging masts
endure to perk up all who pass.
Before time parts them from their sap
to lie forever in earth's lap,
let younger hearts give up some time
to those still shining past their prime.
Gary likes to unwind in parks at weekends. His poetry takes him to other spheres and realms but again, only at weekends as he needs to get back to his workplace from Monday to Friday. He has had three poems published in the Grand Little Things Journal.