Misty Morn

I like the crisp cool mornings
that autumn days can bring,
With promise of a balmy day
to make my glad heart sing.

Today there was a morning fog,
though light as fairy mist,
I found the treasure that it brought
where the river had been kissed.

For all the beauty on it’s banks
had fallen and got wet.
The camera clicked, and clicked again,
So that I would not forget.

C's camera trial 1 (11)C's camera trial 1 (13)


Colour Change

The wind has come a-chuckling
Through the autumn trees.
The leaves are all a-tremble
For fear of any breeze.

Just a tiny puff of air
Can cause them each to fall,
And in a little while
None will be left at all.

Thus autumns’ gracious colour
Will lie at each trees’ feet,
As branches brown then wait
Winters’ icy grip to greet.


Autumn for Brian

Brian, you said on Claudette’s blog how you loved autumn so here’s some pics from my file of autumn here in this lovely valley I live in, in Tasmania, which you may like to see. {I am not good with the camera like Claudette is though}





Autumn Thoughts

Autumn is my favourite time:
The heat of summer gone,
Springtime but a memory,
And winter hurrying on.

Golden days of luxury
That money cannot buy;
Warmth of season’s sunshine
Blue of season’s sky.

Time for deep reflection
In my autumn soul
To look for rhyme and reason
That makes me fully whole.

For winter will encase me
Sometime down the years,
But autumn builds my confidence
And takes away my fears.

For memories that will always
Bring this autumn glow,
Will never be removed
By winter’s cold and snow

End of Autumn

{Autumn in Australia ends-as far as the calendar is concerned- on the last day of May}

Her skirts spread all around her
In colours bold and bright,
Dame Autumn trembled slightly
As she thought of coming night.
Her reign had been so beautiful
In many special ways,
As her subjects paid her homage
Through mellow, golden days.
She knew she must move onward
For the shadows now were long.
And from somewhere in the distance
Rose the haunting cold of song.
Her hands clasped tight together,
For she knew that she had heard
The summons to depart,
Without a spoken word.
This day had found her watching
For things she’d often seen;
That had foretold for certain
The coming of a queen.
She felt an actual chilling
Form her head down to her feet,
And knew that naught was left
But a curtsy and retreat.
So she gathered up her skirts
And glided soft away;
As the calendar turned over
From the last of lovely May.
Queen Winter entered swiftly
In her frost-encrusted gown;
And fixed upon her snow-white hair
The diamond-icicles in her crown.