| An Early Fall Like magic from the artists' brush The trees did show their crimson blush As evening fell and silence hushed The end of summer's final day. Preparing for their seasons change With cooling breeze and steady rains The players of their last refrain Til' solemn branches show their gray. And now we spend our evening time Reflecting over harvest's wine And watch the fireplace slowly die As thoughts run miles and miles away. To innocence and visions past And only dreams the spirit has In knowing that it's come at last The fall is here to stay. Silent Thunder: An Anthology of the Mysteries of the Soul Copyright:James Gunn 2000 all rights reserved |