october

a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

(1872 - 1906)


October is the treasurer of the year,
~~And all the months pay bounty to her store:
The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,
~~And fill her brimming coffers more and more.
But she, with youthful lavishness,
Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress,
~~And decks herself in garments bold
~~Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold.

She heedeth not how swift the hours fly,
~~But smiles and sings her happy life along;
She only sees above a shining sky;
~~She only hears the breezes' voice in song.
Her garments trail the woodland through,
And gather pearls of early dew
~~That sparkle till the roguish Sun
~~Creeps up and steals them every one.

But what cares she that jewels should be lost,
~~When all of Nature's bounteous wealth is hers?
Though princely fortunes may have been their cost,
~~Not one regret her calm demeanor sitrs.
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,
She lives her life out joyously,
~~Nor cares when Frost stalks o'er her way
~~And turns her auburn locks to gray.

~~~


Fall  by suetheimpossibledreamhanes

usually fall means cooler days
~~ but it's still too warm for me

leaves are falling but i don't rake
~~i'm an inside girl you see

anyway this fall things will be different
~~for on halloween that scary day

no candy will i be passing out
~~for the movers arrive so they say

we're outta here on nov first
~~my back is already forlorn

well what can i do except use ben-gay
~~for i've certainly been forewarned

sure it will be the last place i'll live
~~in this earthly life filled with strife

no i'm just kidding i really can't wait
~~to hang pictures and start a new life