WIND-BLOWN NOTEBOOK LEAVES

The wind rifles my pages,

But I’d stay out here for ages…

The sunlight mild

And leaves whipping wild,

Are stuff of artists and sages!

Men and women add

Layers–not so bad…

Gusts turn cold

Making old,

People miss what they had.

Seasons keep turning around,

Soon snow and cold abound…

Snow flakes flying

Over seagulls crying,

For scraps along the ground!

–Jonathan Caswell

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.