The wicked will wither
Like Autumn leaves.
They'll crumple and fall
With the strengthening breeze.
The good and the kind
Will last much longer.
Like evergreens
They will grow stronger.
Their lives will shine.
They will survive.
While the wicked will wither
The good will thrive.
REMEMBRANCE
Days of past, still in our mind We look back and we say Thank you to brave men of war Who gave their lives one day. Brave men to whom we owe our health Brave men to whom we owe our wealth We say to you, we owe you all And now for you we pray.
DEATH IN NOVEMBER
Still as a graveyard. Veiled in grey
The land lies dying this November day.
Silent and sombre, tree trunks stand
Watching over this wilting land.
Swathes of bracken, once bold and green
Sit hunched and bent at the dying scene.
Leaves so bright like fiery flame
Their final fling. What a shame.
Dead leaves dumped along the lane
Slain by the wind, the cold and the rain.
Bright red berries without their shine.
Their life or death is borderline.
The once green grass now pale, prostrate
Takes a rest from standing straight.
Green Ivies still look smug and bright
No matter what ,they'll be all right.
A broken twig, all gnarled and black
Lies lifeless on its shattered back.
This death won't last. There's no denying.
But in November the land lies dying.