a journey of self discovery through art, journaling and poetry
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Poetry Potluck Wednesday
My ears listen keenly,
To hear the Autumn wind.
To feel air crisp with Winter chill,
Goose pimple up my skin.
To stand among the brilliance
Of trees in fiery dress.
The last, great, golden dance of leaves,
Drift to eternal rest.
Word of the Day: loam. (noun) a rich soil composed of clay, sand and some organic matter.