Where Are They? Poem by James Walter Orr

Where are the poems of yesterday,
that kept our souls alive;
The poems that sprang forth from the heart
and made our spirits thrive?
The fall has come, October brings
its brisk and chilly wind.
The ghosts and goblins all come out,
their sheets all clean and pinned.
With all the fun this month will bring,
our mirth we must not bridle.
Come say your poems and sing your songs;
Don't let our lives be idle.