Fleeting Days Of Summer

Hey, you don't like God's cold touch? Neither do I. ~A p.s. I am returning to my non-rating system even though I know you don't give to shits about stars. I rewrote this *Anna's way*.... And that pretty much explains our methods of critiquing....Sorry, the devil made me do it. Autumn whispers with dried leaves skittering, a chilling wind the solitary honk of a goose and the point of its ‘V’, give directions to old man winter childhood memories, splashing about in lakes pools and ocean waves now sums, literature and runny noses Seasonal birds, disgruntled by chill-wind mussed feathers take their leave, in the sunlight they’ll gossip and marvel at the stupidity of creatures that remain frozen-beaked Before long we will sit in longing for God’s warming touch

Its lovely to read you again its been too long and this is an awesome poem i loved it ... good to see some life from you love and hugz Jayne x x We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves. Lynn Hall ...