A faint touch of Winter

04.25.06 (6:41 pm)   [edit]
  
 



 


The cool early morning breeze,
A joy after a hot humid day.
The sound of the whippoorwill
With it’s in unending rhythm,
That lulls after listening,
Becoming a soothing backdrop
For the surrounding peace and beauty
That nature bestows.
The gentle sound of crickets
Calling out for their mates to be,
Accompanied by the deep profundity
Of the call of the bull frog,
Lonely with no answer
But with hope renewed
Calls again and again
Seeking an answer from the surrounding dark.
Such is the beauty of a spring morning,
That stills retains a faint taste of winter’s youth,
Long gone,
Now waning, and soon all trace of its manly strength gone,
Until the fall returns,
With its hint of cold,
As it again grows in strength
Calling nature to rest
Until the cycle begins again.

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