Winter Coming On
for My Sweet Ron
Winter coming on I stand at the door
Counting blessings here between you and glass
Our garden holds summer dreams evermore
Flower beds relinquish their quilts once more
Shadows stretch out slowly across the grass
Winter coming on I stand at the door
The sycamore throws down its poems of yore,
Leaves drift down slow as autumn’s hours pass
Our garden holds summer dreams evermore
The grass holds still what frost cannot restore
Keeps its memory green beneath the mass
Winter coming on I stand at the door
Hive for worms carpet for feet spreads before
Birds a tablecloth where shadows amass
Our garden holds summer dreams evermore
I read the leaves summer spreads and adore
Watching the sweet seasons come and go as
Winter coming on I stand at the door
Our garden holds summer dreams evermore
