The Autumn Wind

Poem By Gene Olson

The autumn wind is blowing in
I can see traces of it’s passing
in the color of the leaves
Each day the rich green leaves
lose some of their hue
When it started to change is not quite known
and when you look from day to day
the change is not as striking
but as I look over the vast forest
I see light green, yellow and red
where weeks ago there was only green
I know that the leaves will surely fall
leaving the forest barren of color
And before long the forest floor
will become covered with snow
But this does not mean the forest is dead
it merely needs this time to replenish
In the spring the branches will spring buds
and they will grow into leaves
that will overshadow last years crop

I can feel the autumn breeze
as it washes over my heart
Each day it searches for you
and each day that it comes up empty
is another day closer to winter
But I have no fear for I know
that winter is a time of rejuvenation
and when the warm southern breeze
rolls across my heart again
It will bloom brighter
than the most beautiful daffodils
and will grow into the largest field
of wildflowers that you have ever seen

This is the first winter we face
but we have sown some strong seeds
and have built some hearty plants
that will not whither and die easily
Fear not my sweet southern peach
for our love will blossom again
and grow twice as beautiful
When the wind is right and we
once again have time to tend
to this garden of perennial love we have planted

Comments about The Autumn Wind

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of OLSON

The Portrait

I find myself transfixed by the most amazing portrait
And as I examine it with a critics eye
I become more aware of the depth
And the detail on the surface

If My Heart Had Wings

If my heart had wings
It could not fly any higher
Than it does when you and I are together

Unfulfilled

The waiting is the worst part
Not knowing where your heart may be…
Is it still beating or am I wasting my time?
Has it been discarded like yesterdays trash?

The Best Gift Of All

No words are needed
The distance is insurmountable
The communication could not be clearer
No satalite could transmit in higher definition

The Quilt Of Love

The late summer breeze blows
A hint of winter’s coming snow
A hint of peaches ripe on the vine
A strange mix that makes the senses reel

A Wasted Youth

The call came in early in the morning
I was dreaming of my love, so distant and untouchable