Listening to every heart
Ah the riotous windís in action
on this late October noon,
rustling leaves still cling in trees
still dangle on, but soon
to leave, and pardon the pun
as the leaves dance in the sun,
the rustle is loud upon the street,
a sonata of sound, canít be beat.
Blow wind blow, leaves circling
as an invisible hand thus stirring
the dried surplus of summerís day,
all the colors come to play.
Hang on a bit tighter, all fall leaves
for one more weekend I need reprieve
of office walls that bide my soul
until I walk in majesty, again come whole.
29 October, 1999
Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow