WALKY TALK

4seasons_editcomp

TO SEE THIS WALKOPHONOUS POEM & COLLAGE AS PART OF THE #STELLER STORY IN WHICH THEY WERE ORIGINALLY POSTED, CLICK HERE. 

If my footsteps,

(Fall crunch: over leaves)

Were able to talk,

(Winter crisp: on snow)

The sound of their words,

(Spring slosh: through puddles)

Would depend when I walk.

(Summer scratch: sandy toes)

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THE PERFECT FOIL

How I love fall foilage,
How its colors are grand,
How they make a painting
How it revamps the land.

How I love fall foilage,
How it lights up the trees,
How it falls into piles,
How they reach my knees.

How I love the foilage,
How it scatters like sprinkles,
How it’s earth toned confetti,
How when crushed, it crinkles.

Oh, how I love foilage,
If it had its own song
I’d know every word
And get none of them wrong.

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YOU CAN’T, LEAF!

You there, leaves,

Back on the trees!

You may NOT yet come down

And blanket the ground!

You must help us stall

The beginning of fall,

Because the end of summer

Would be such a bummer.

So up, up, you go

To those branches you know,

Back up in place,

This isn’t a race!

Then in one month feel free

To LEAP off the trees,

Right now I can’t take

The thought of a rake.

AUTUMNA NON GRATA - (Photo - PaC)

AUTUMNA NON GRATA – (Photo – PaC)