The trees now are turning so vaired are the shades. <br />Cool and clear the night soon ice will choke the glades. <br />Sad and mornful song in the distance cries a loon. <br />While on the shadowed horizon hangs the harvest moon. <br />Cloked by a stary blanket no image can contain. <br />As the north breeze whispers a lonely sad refrain. <br />The ending of a cycle its loop is almost closed <br />All of natures mysteries shall never be exposed.<br /><br />jack green<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/natures-mysteries/
