Gold leaves whistle down from the turquoise sky.
Bronze leaves float down, looking like golden brown.
No one could ever count them all!
Leafless trees wait till they get more magnificent leaves.
Autumn has a gigantic job, and a holiday awaits.
This is a poem my 8 year old wrote. I was pretty impressed, as I usually am with this child. Thought I would share.. not bad for 8 huh??? Here's one more, then I promise I'm done!
Autumn means change.
My neighbor's dog circles around a colorful oak tree.
Owls whistle at a hunters' moon.
Everybody yells when they jump into a leaf pile.
Winter is coming!
1 comment:
those are REALLY good! I see a budding poet in W :) very cool. That extremely impressive for 8!
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