Autumn Days Poem by Connie Chambers

A fragrance fills the air to the point where I can almost taste the lily pad lilies, along with the musky perfume of the falling pine needles. As I stand there breathing in the warm aroma, I wriggle my toes and experience the fresh grasses both new and aged still hanging onto what life they have until winter lays them to sleep under a blanket of deep blue/white snow. And here where blossoms bloom one last time troubles are laid to rest. I feel a still silence, and silence is what most may hear. All but me, I hear the leaps, jumps, splashes, and friendly screams of an old memory. That I relive at this moment in the past. But while listening to all that was a round me I hear a soft song from gentle wind. One thing commands the rest water, not a clear blue pool, not even foamy green sea water, water from a large pond far off in the wood. Yet even though I am striding along side this place it is silently drawing me closer to it.