The wind is gusting
Whistling across the lake
The leaves, they are adjusting
As they move from where left by the rake
Whistling across the lake
The leaves, they are adjusting
As they move from where left by the rake
The once tidy piles
Raked there after the fall
The leaves of many colors
Responding to the winds call
The gardener, he is out working
Round and round he goes, so busy
Re-doing what he had been raking
He loves the colors of fall, so why is he feeling so dizzy?
Published by John Smither
I had often felt that I had a book inside me ready to be written (many of us have I know), well it has been but now I need to get it published. Until recently I never knew I could write poems, that is my nex... View profile
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3 Comments
Post a CommentNicely said. You can correct the typo in the title if you contact admin and ask them to change the title for you.
Sophie
Sorry, typo.....I read through this before posting, it should have read ...The Wind is Gusting.
Cause the wind won't give him a break! Lol...
Great poem!