Red Moon Rise




The wind whispers,

tales of long ago,

of the falling leaves,

of crimson sunset glow.

All that is behind us,

is suddenly set free,

Autumn is the death of summer,

the wind its memory.




Red moon rise,

above the dying trees,

awaking our


All of life is captive,

as autumn reigns.

This the gentle murmur,

of the coming winter’s strain.

Every passing moment,

is imprisoned in the sound,

of the wailing wind,

and the leaves upon the ground.




Rest you weary soul,

beneath the autumn sky.

There’s magic to be found,

in the earth’s on lullaby.

While eyes are shut,

remembrance awakens.

In the dreams of fall,

return the memories, forsaken.



Bitter Ground

Gently falling frail and dead
drifting slowly brown and red
until they softly end their passage
to the wet and bitter ground.

Where we all place our sorrow
we’ll all be buried there tomorrow
the leaves end their journey
upon the wet and bitter ground.

From dust to dust
for fall we all must
and end our long passage down
to the wet and bitter ground.