A Poem of November
Written by Amy L. : 11-16--16
The Wind's voice is an autumn breeze,
The Bird's song is the twittering in the trees.
An American flag boldly flies where we're living,And soon, we shall celebrate America's Thanksgiving.
And Though the leaves now crunch 'neath my feet,Sweet Autumn's end, soon shall we meet.
But for now, the deer hunter, from a tree stand does peek,And the squirrels, for winter's supply of food, they seek.
For autumn does not last,And once it's gone, we can't relive what's past.
So take a walk sometime, maybe today,And you might find extra thanksgiving words to say.
So let's cherish autumn--and it's joy, let's share,For the color falls from the trees, and soon autumn trees are left bare.
This is a poem of November,For upon us soon, will be December.