Beginning shades of fall.
White saucers hover over all.
Bold summer freckles,
A few remnants of early dew.
Lily pad hopscotch,
The favorite fountain,
A sharp angle from me to you.
Polite “Good mornings” to our dear Shaw as the church bells begin to chime,
Still, listening, one finger per peal,
Our visit ends at the stroke of nine.
Time to leave and meet new friends, meet with family, meet our day.
The best days start when we take the time to wander through this garden way.