The valleys are now withered
the days are colder
the mind is bolder
to the holder
the last rose of summer
had fallen to the garden of time
the blooms of color
lost their luster of beauty
the leaves are all on the ground
the wind blows them around
making all kinds of sounds
I remember a place
where I once use to swing
it was a beautiful thing
in late spring
when love was with me
when life was going bright
but that had all faded away
now all I have is the memories.

Judy Emery © 1982
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Judy Emery