Each time the leaves vacate their em'rald perch,
A grief in me begins to twist and burn;
Perhaps, to them, an em'rald has no worth,
And so they fall and so I grieve and yearn.
The summer sun burns dimmer than before,
So never tricks my heart or tempts my mind.
This battle has become a yearly war,
But golden rays no longer leave me blind.
And so my feet make paths through all that's been -
The rustle racks my soul and breaks my bones.
To think I walk on waste that once was green,
And sing the Fall in perfect monotone.
Each year you dress your limbs and tease us all,
But hark! I hear the winter's blasted call.
I wish you could see me clapping right now! I like Sonnets
and when they are done tastefully that too about nature well
it becomes my all time favorite! You are becoming one fine writer
and soon you will be publishing!