Come Fly with Me

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copyright 2012 Jeanne E Webster-All rights reserved

 

“The falling leaves drift by the window,
the autumn leaves of red and gold,”

a tune sung by Frank Sinatra, put me in the mood for autumn ponderings.

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Sharing with you as the thoughts fly by:

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Flaming papery shards burnt to a scratchy crisp–

Floating kaleidoscopes of yellows, oranges and reds–

Flying vibrant pieces of parchment gravitating earthward–

Flippant shreds of tree embellishments settling to the ground–

Free-falling wax papery scraps rehearsing their aerobatics–

Fluttering colorful debris delighting in merry-go-round rides–

Fragile remnants intermingling, forming loosely knit piles–

Fragments of mighty oaks forced into the atmosphere and back–

Fractured leftovers from past sun-filled summer days–

Frolicking foliage dancing wildly in tiny wisps of wind–

Frivolous flecks of decaying verdure appearing here and there–

Fidgeting scrappy leathery rags scurrying across the road–

Falling shapes flip-flopping as they twirl down, down to the ground–

Fiery shapely bits, as ashes from a flame,

Filling the dusty atmosphere with musty sweet aromas,

Flattening horizons of hills, rills and potholes,

Freeing the once green giants from their thick outer coats, and

Flitting pieces of spent adornments returning to the dust.

Colorful Acrobatics

cropped-windowleaves1.gif

© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed

 

A Frank Sinatra tune put me in the mood for autumn ponderings:

 

“The falling leaves drift by the window, the autumn leaves of red and gold.”

 

 

LEAVES ARE:

Flaming papery shards burnt to a scratchy crisp–

Floating kaleidoscopes of yellows, oranges and reds–

Flying vibrant pieces of parchment gravitating earthward–

Flippant shreds of tree embellishments settling to the ground–

Free-falling wax papery scraps rehearsing their aerobatics–

Fluttering colorful debris delighting in merry-go-round rides–

Fragile remnants intermingling, forming loosely knit piles–

Fragments of mighty oaks forced into the atmosphere and back–

Fractured leftovers from past sun-filled summer days–

Frolicking foliage dancing wildly in tiny wisps of wind–

Frivolous flecks of decaying verdure appearing here and there–

Fidgeting scrappy leathery rags scurrying across the road–

Falling shapes flip-flopping as they twirl down, down to the ground…

`

Fiery shapely bits, as ashes from a flame,

Filling the dusty atmosphere with musty sweet aromas,

Flattening horizons of hills, rills and potholes,

Freeing the once green giants from their thick outer coats, and

Flitting pieces of washed-out adornments returning to dust.

Purty Writing

spring

© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed

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“Write sum’fing purty,” da good Lawd said,
Nuff glum and gloom out dere a’ready.”
So I plopped on my tinkin’ hat…reflectin’
So hard I got tired and went to beddy.

Let’s see now, springtime is here,
Dere’s lots a’ purty colorful shrubs
Forsythia, lilacs ‘n redbuds so pink
Colorin’ the yards like pinwheel hubs.

Yards are full of sparkly dashin’ birds
All decked out in nature’s brite hues.
Courtin’ one ‘nother, startin’ families
Dey got no time fer chasin’ da blues.

Red-breasted robins, how stout they be
A’building nests and gobblin’ up worms;
Thru wedder so cold or floodin’ as seas
Dey fights back like fightin’ some germs.

Look ‘it da lil’ squirrels a’flippin’ der tails
Hurryin’ here an’ dere like hopscotchin’ toys
Dey start–dey stop–den skitter up a tree
Wid a sassy attitude sorta like lil’ boys.

Bluejays do lots of screechin’ ‘n hollerin’
I tink dey jes’ like to boss everything aroun’
Maybe dey’s the neighbo’hood policin’ men
Flittin’ here and dere from trees to da groun’.

I can’t fergit dem purply house finches
Wearin’ dere finest feathers of rosy red
Dey brighten up the feeders so color’fly
As dey peck at the seeds til dey’s well-fed.

Well, Lawd, I did my best to write purty today.
No dismal tings, no gloom or grumpy glums;
Da trees and shrubs declare Yer glory
From da sassafras leafs to dem purply plums.

(Where’d You get all those purty colors, Lawd?
Musta plucked ‘em strait from dat glor’ous rainbow!)

Photo: http://www.publicdomainpictures.net