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New England

A shorter day is upon us
the illusion of shadows
starts to grow out slowly
as the sun lays low in setting.
Busy at his gathering
as we in our warm jackets
rake the colored autumn leaves,
watch this winter squirrel
tinker at his specialty.
The smell of burning leaves
come friendly, from each yard,
long shadows from old trees
trace the path they have for years.
The paper boy goes pedaling by
on a shiny red schwinn bike;
covered with printers ink
his cotton bags are full
the sidewalks his target.
As a standard on each block
every year at this time,
chimneys touch the evening sky
and smoke rises slowly
from each northeastern home.
Mike Hendershot 2009

30 Sep 09

Rated 9.3 (8.8) by 3 users.
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(to the tune of: a shorter day is upon us)

a shorter day's upon us,
the shadows dimming down:
the sun is setting slowly,
the lights come on in town.

but, here together, warmly,
we rake the autumn leaves --
and all god's creatures, over,
bend down their heads and grieve.

for nature is almighty,
and leaves go where they must --
and after they've sat satisfied,
they're meant to turn to dust.

so, leave those leaves, dear person,
don't stuff them in a sack --
for all god's freak mightily,
when footed things attack.
 — trashpoodle

'for all god's leaves freak mightily,'
 — trashpoodle

No way I have never heard this song before, maybe in my saga-67 dreams ha-ha anything goes there... I think though you are up to something Trashpoodle, how did you get that name anyway?
Well as you see around here "thanks for stopping by"  j.g. Autumn smiles     something new...
 — goeszon

i use it because most of the comments directed at me in the forum involve 'fifi' the poodle saying exactly the last word. i thought i'd go transcendental and become the poodlegeist and eater of trash comments.

but, thanks -- it was fun to get inspired to write a song -- and, i totally didn't recognize your style: that's always a good thing to see here, when people take risks in the way they write, not just what they write about.
 — trashpoodle

writing this was a risk of sorts, when something gets passed over you wonder what in the hell went wrong etc. anyway thats how I feel, I thought maybe there were more people burning leaves, maybe they are pumping out basements etc there is that risk well each week is sorta fun in itself like black- jack , next week more without the standard fare, more to eat off the platter etc thanks for the fun Trash, glad you came around, naked ha-ha or however you say that lol ?

J. g. smiles
 — goeszon

I like your poem-
though I'm thinking that you could probably do without lines 10-11..
L14 maybe just 'old' trees?
and maybe take 'are' out of line #20--
overall, otherwise, good write...
 — JKWeb

Sharp edit, sure you don't do this for a business? Thanks for your advice worked out very well ! I see you guys back North are eating it in the 50's is that so, red nose for me can not handle it below 52, and that is dressed for it too... I liked my 80's today ,nice dry, desert heat, clean skies and happy trails,  thanks for droppin in pardner, western talk he-he
j.g. smiles
 — goeszon

Being from New England I like this alot--it has a Norman Rockwell feel to it.
 — PaulS

norman rockwell made drawings from photos and made a living off cloning -- this poem isn't a cloning of anything and deserves more respect. having lived in new england, i know that those old men racking leaves aren't doing it for photo-ops.
 — trashpoodle

I wasn't disrespecting the poem, Mike, and goeszon knows that.
 — PaulS

I a young man sitting on a curb learning what my place would be in future days, the physical work the orchestra of the bending rakes, the symphony of the crazy squirrel poking in the grass running up a tree, nothing was standing still, your right, even the smoke of friendly fires could not catch the oder of the scene, a soft write on a special day when everything was calm... j.g. smiles
 — goeszon

paul, is a poem just a moment of brightness, or is it not an actually communion with the author? make this author's images into van gogh and i'll believe that you saw the poet in this.
 — trashpoodle

I wonder what they would say, standing there in the afternoon, just home from work?
j.g. smiles
 — goeszon

stanza 3 and 4 almost make a poem, the rest is as many autumn leaves blocking a waffle grate.
 — unknown

The paper boy goes pedaling by
on a shiny red schwinn bike;
covered with printers ink  
his cotton bags are full  
the sidewalks his target.

The smell of burning leaves  
come friendly, from each yard,  
long shadows from old trees  
trace the path they have for years.  
 — unknown

Thanks Unk your rendition is wonderful! j.g. smiles
 — goeszon

quiet gneiss.
: )
 — fractalcore

interesting poem
 — psychofemale

    Fratalcore & P/F Flyer, thanks for stopping by...

            ;          &nbs p;           Goeszon
 — goeszon