This brief, beautiful
Preview of delightful Autumn
With her crisp chilled nights
And gray-sky mornings
Will be brutally interrupted
By Summer strolling
Back onto the stage
Despite having taken her bow
For a sweaty encore
That nobody wanted
-gws
Days grow shorter
Mornings and evenings delightfully chilled
Long afternoons warm, hazy, and tea-colored
Cool breezes dance from the sea into the valley
Making layered wardrobes a must this time of year
The world starts to quiet down
Though restlessly at first
Unwilling to relinquish summer's vitality
Harvest season half complete
The trees begin debuting their fall finery
Resplendent in reds, golds, and browns
As purple hues return to sunset skies
The golden hour earns its name now
As the last dandelion seeds drift through dried grasses awash in glowing rays
Shadows deepen as homes reflect amber radiance in westward facing window panes
Preparing to welcome night's elongating visits earlier each day
The resting season is arriving
It carries with it ghostly tales told under cloud-filtered moonlight
Candlelight and story craft
Blankets, books, and honeyed tea
Soups, stews, and baked goods of all kinds
Air laden with aromatic spices and yeast
The world grows gradually quieter
Chirping crickets slow their masterpieces from allegro to adagio
Singing the world into a calmer pace before putting away their instruments
Fall readies to welcome dreamers and philosophers
Writers and witches
All the laborers of the mind and spirit
Into its gentle comforting arms
-gws
I smoked a joint with the moon
She insisted it would allow us to see the world's beauty better
As herbal clouds drifted lazily across her round face
She rambled dreamily about the midnight sea's endless dance with her voluptuous celestial body
Spoke stanzas of star songs
Sang of wild wolf hunts and their howling choruses
Described forest galleries full of freshly woven spider webs bejeweled with moon-dazzled dew
She waxed lyrical about the endless stream of hopes and prayers whispered to her
Giggled as she fondly recounted the numerous myths humans had crafted about her
I listened contentedly
Basking in her hazy light
My heavy-lidded eyes glistening half moons themselves
Safely ensconced in her keeping
-gws
Beneath her surface lies
Unfathomable truths
Jealousy guarded
Her roaring a warning
That what she takes
Will not be returned the same
All are tithes to the moon-drunk sea
She takes all manner of tribute
Hopes
Dreams
Prayers
Secrets
Grief
Gratitude
Messages
Stone
Glass
Vessels
Bounty
Life
She is not picky
Transmuting all inside her churning depths
Into polished fragments to be left
As glittering pieces amongst the sand
Some emerge as treasure
Others tragedy
Everything transformed
-gws
I don't feel well today
Reverberating echos of broken dreams
Aching pervasive guilt
Persistent pointless hope
That will not stay snuffed out
Nothing is wrong
And I hurt just the same
I don't feel well today
The sun still rose in a misty pink sky
The flowers are blooming and busy with bees
Birds sing songs of spring awakening
Amongst the newly sprouted leaves
Nothing is wrong
And I hurt just the same
I don't feel well today
Warm afternoon sunlight dries tears
That slip from beneath my sunglasses
The world assaults my senses
Too loud, bright, fast
Nothing is wrong
And I hurt just the same
I don't feel well today
I am told that time heals
That I'm doing the right things
That I didn't cause it
I can't control or cure it
Nothing is wrong
And I hurt just the same
-gws
Curtains of branches and leaves cascade to the ground
Creating a sanctuary for childhood dreams beneath
The somber sway of weeping willows
Hides from common eyes the magical worlds they held for me
I made friends of willow trees
The trees of my childhood spoke to me
They greeted me every time I played in their park
There are less of them today
But a few still stand
Providing mystical playgrounds for new children
I wave hello to those trees when I pass them by
Hoping they remember the little girl who loved them so well
And always will
-gws
Warm lazy afternoons in late summer
Hazy and tea-colored at the golden hour
Dragonflies dancing through the tall grass
While crickets hum contentedly
Air scented with summer earth
And hints of coming autumn rain
The world readying for sleep
Eagerly awaiting the slowing of things
-gws
How I love a blue-gray sky
Hanging heavy above a blue-green sea
Or a sky of vibrant summer blue
Filled with the white puffs of lazy clouds
How about the velvet blue of a midnight sky
Glittering with silver stars
The enchanted pastel painted skies of dawn
Dressed in pinks and sherbet oranges
Or better yet the jeweled-toned shows of sunsets at the closing day
Painted with deep reds and purples and burning oranges
The sky's moods are all so beautiful
-gws
My curls dance around my face
As the wind kisses my cheeks rosy
These are the winds of change
Smelling of hope and promise
Action and evolution
The wind sings dreams of change to me
It pulls at my skirts
Kisses goosebumps onto my skin
Willing me to move my feet
Daring me to take a chance
Toward unwritten promise
I toss on my sweater
Pick up my notebook
Tamp down my hat
And walk toward the unknown
Wind cheering at my back
Celebrating the changing of everything
-gws
She dressed for the night
Draped in shadows and silver
Making friends with the darkness
-gws
