The Seasons: A Poem

Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai

News...

Just a quick update and request for prayers for Catherine. She has had a low grade fever today and has not been acting herself and of course, not eating very much. I've been keeping up her fluids and giving her tylenol. Please pray that this ends soon and her appetite returns! Thank you and we will pray for all of you.

Comments

Matt said…
We'll be praying for Catherine and y'all as well.
Love,
Uncle Matt and Aunt Michelle
Barbara said…
I hope she is feeling better very soon. Maybe something she picked up on the flight...