January isn't my new year
October brings new color everywhere
a month of change and coming cheer
and filled gun racks here and there.
Companionship around a camp fire
with tales of hunts from long ago
inflamed bucks' intense desire
discussing where we ought to go.
The smell of gun powder and oil
and wet wool on rainy days
looking forward to the coming toil
of dragging deers where puddles glaze.
Greeting chill dawns as days' lengths decrease
and the cold dark nights grow long
and the winter brings a silent peace.
To October is where new years belong.
Comments
Stan
We have both done the same I think we should all be spontaneous in our writes sometimes.
I cant imagine taking more than an hour to write a new piece< as I have said many times I use to write for people on Beer mats and bits of paper where ever I was at the time and they didn't take up too much time.
I still have some of the original beer mats from Fridays in Ottawa up north a bit lol,
Take care my friend and your write is fine, I bet you miss the hunting..
Now you must hunt for words to tell us all about your being and what made you
Take care, Yours Ian ..
I usually compose on a note book then edit as I post.
I figured a raw post might be a good idea at times
but I compose off the cuff
and
poets like you dispose
kick it off the cliff
I fly ff in a whiff
where is Shirley
Alas
Shirley is long gone and between contests, workshop and deer season I'm short of time lol
where has our LADY RITZ CEO GONE
We all selected
stan
I have
been so busy I didn't notice she was gone lol
I was all up...
on this one. The only place I got a little lost in the pattern and rhyme, was at the end.
I would do it this way:
Greeting chills in the dawn of morn
daylight less as the nights grow long
Bucks are battling with their horns
October sings my New Year song
.
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