Another Fall

The air turned cold last nightAs the moon lay silver on the trees And shadows cast an eerie charm With silhouettes that danced and teased.

Night creatures scurried past Roaming with practiced ease And the wise old owl hooted 'who, who'? From his perch amongst the trees.

And a hoary frost laid cold about An omen of things to be When ice and snow and wind-drawn pain Elicit dreams of summer's glee.

The Turkey Trot

The Turkey Trot

My Purpose in Existence, A Prayer of Longing