Fall is the day growing shorter as the sun drifts off to sleep an hour earlier
Fall is placing tulip bulbs into the rich, fresh soil
Fall is a mother carefully sewing each stitch of a homemade Halloween costume for her anxious child
Fall is creating buck-toothed jack-o-lanterns out of a plump orange pumpkin
Fall is a masked child scurrying door to door in hope of some delicious goodies
Fall is a brightly colored leaf dancing swiftly to the ground
Fall is wallowing in a gigantic pile of gold and crimson
Fall is the graceful migration of those flying south
Fall is the cool air kissing a freckled cheek
Fall is the pumpkin spice from inside the kitchen, teasing a hungry belly
Fall is the feeling
the smell
the experience,
that I wait for all year long
So that poem was written by 7th grade me. And while I can't attest to the poetic genius of my 12 year old self, I can vouch for my undying love for fall.
The second September hits, I'm pulling out my scarves and boots and heading to Barnes & Noble in search of a book and cozy chair.
I can't wait for more stormy days so I can wrap myself in a blanket, grab a mug of steeping tea, and wait for rain. I welcome it!
Thanksgiving will be here in just a few short weeks. Turkey, pie, and BINGO to ensue.
Christmas rushes in too quickly, taking over the golden laziness of autumn.
I beg, WAIT!
Just a few more moments--please!

3 comments:
I loved the poem! When I was 12, all I did was cry because I was me.
Wait...
Anyway, I keep seeing pictures of fall and winter and such and I'm really jealous because, as you know, we don't have them here.
Now I have to go and remember what I cried about when I was 12.
whenever the first winter storm hits will be entirely too soon for me. Unless it hits on a Thursday after I'm finished work for the week. Then that's okay.
I have the same LOVE/OBSESSION about Fall, it's the best time of the year!!!
Post a Comment