Dark and dank, the dead leaves lie,

a blanket on the frosted ground.

While dormant bulbs, in slumber rest,

to wait the coming of the spring

 

This dank but golden patch work quilt,

a bounty from the noble trees,

that shade the grass in summer time,

now returns to nurture it.

 

For though we mourn the passing warmth,

the summer and the fragrant flowers.

The seasons spark our very lives

and make each time a joyous thing.

 

So in the gloomy days of Fall

when mist and rain obscure the view.

Take comfort in the happy thought.

That soon it will be spring once more.

David. Garlick, Victoria, November 1986