B. B. Watkins
Please, Not Yet...
Fall lies ahead, but feeling bereft,
Backward I peer round Summer's bend--
One last glimpse of the joys being left
Till another long year shall finally end...
For orange now will intrude on green
And colder air will nip at bare arms
As Nature paints her rustic scene,
Trying to coax with her pastel charms.
Reluctantly, grudgingly, will I observe