Anew with peonies begins the year. Anon anenomes, their flowers clear pure white, foreshadow snow and nod their heads to autumn's astral breeze. Tulips ease forth roots to sip the last of summer's warmth while winter waits before the earth he beds.
Pumpkins perch on porches transplanted where they sit preposteriously and dare sleek cats to lumber by. Their plump slumber is not disturbed by howling hordes of goblins hunting goodies, for high above suburbs the moon pours down its hushful prayer.
Blow halloween a kiss and beg no tricks nor bed nor Y2K bugs bite us.