Autumn by Fred Miller

Jaunty leaves whirl about, spawning memories of long 

ago retreats filled with aromas and tastes from granny’s 

kitchen where delights gained hard in harvest toil awaited 

broods of beloved souls gathered about from afar.

Take me back to those dew-lit mornings pinched with

gusts that danced about with hues of sunlit sienna and 

pumpkin. And omens of promise hidden beneath quilts 

of nature’s mysteries now secure in silent expectation.

Cheerful aspens, awaken my dreams of crackling fires, and spires

of afternoon smoke soon to fade in the shadows of a new harvest

moon rising high above morning stars abiding in its midst. And

impish rimes that cut short wonders of autumn’s soon fleeting gifts.

Grant me visions of kinfolk, full of laughter, sharing tales

of pilgrims and hard-won freedoms and kitchen processions

of steaming goodness brought forth to be shared over brimming

tables of abundance amid reflections in humble silence.

Fill my meditations with images of times gone by when bold 

hands of cosmic design filled forests with gold and garnet, and

sealed my heart in remembrance of those cherished days with 

gentle eyes who nurtured hope and love in young innocents.

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Fred Miller is a California writer. Over fifty of his stories and poems have appeared in publications around the world in the past ten years. Many may be found on his blog: https://pookah1943.wordpress.com