Gone is the supple sap of Spring

And leaves hang limply from the sovereign tree

Remembering the time when youth was young

And worlds were green in their fecundity

Yet those old leaves of brittle age

Resplendent in their glorious red and gold

Still have a tale to write upon the page

Still have a final story to unfold

See how they burst in splendid disarray

Colours enhancing these, their final hours

Until that wondrous splendour fades away

And winter shields the empty leafless bowers



Thomas Vaughan Jones (TVaughanJones@aol.com)


Watch these pages for more stories by Tom.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.

Autumn Delights


The Seamstress

Home Is Where The Heart Is

As Strangers We Part

Viva La Differance

As September Dies

The Leaves Of Fall

And.......for many others, click the index image.

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