Wild Cape Photography
There was a time not so long ago,
Where the flowers bloomed
through the winters snow,
The air was light, and the days were long,
Oh, now, how those days are long gone.
Now comes the icy chill blowing in from the North,
With its dark beauty and frozen domain,
It will test our mettle, brawn, and brain,
But we must get through it if we are to remain.
The song of the pines,
It is a tune as old as time,
Since the mountains could echo,
And the icy lakes groan.
Whispering or roaring,
Something eternal and divine,
In the rustling needles of the sweet autumn pine,
A song of wisdom long forgotten by our time.
Amber leaves dance in the autumn breeze,
As gentle raindrops flow down the mighty trees,
A moment and place I surely would like to freeze.
Oh, but time in its vanity rolls on,
As each leaf breaks, reminding of moments gone,
Falling to the cold earth as new seasons dawn.
I have followed the pathless stream,
Churning and aching like a dream,
Curving to the gentle rhythms of autumn’s gleam.
The full moon shone below,
Pale moonlight danced on the leaves, falling like snow.
Oh, how that crisp wind does blow.
Gone is the sweltering heat,
Summer is in full retreat,
Autumn begins with no deceit.