The crystal raindrops falling

and the far-off snow geese calling

sound a warning

“Summer’s drawing to a close.”


Now the Autumn leaves turn golden

and the laughing summer children

hurry while the gates stand open

for one last ride.


Soon the ponies will stand silent

shrouded in their winter wrappings,

with their panoply of trappings

hidden from admiring view.


But the children will remember

even deep in cold December

and see reflected in the embers

the flash of sparkling eyes.


Then they’ll hear the lilting music

in their minds while tapping to it

little toes will strike a rhythm

set in bold three-quarter time.



There are carousels in places

where the summer never races

to the waiting arms of winter

bright with snow.


But they’re never held more dearly

or treasured more sincerely

than those who fly so briefly

in the fleeting summer sun.


c.2010, Donna Swanson


About dswan2

Poet, author, columnist, lyricist, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife of 50 years. Born and raised in America's Heartland
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7 Responses to AUTUMN

  1. This is wonderful, Donna. It has such a musical flow to it. Very nicely done!

  2. Hello again. I left the the wrong link in the previous comment. My story for this prompt is: The Last Grain of Sand –

  3. Kay Salady says:

    I adore carousels and this is such a beautiful tribute to their enjoyment. Your writing is so lovely, Donna.

  4. Brought back memories of my childhood and the happy times I had when I visited the carnival with my parents. When I knew winter was on the way, I’d be so sad but my dad would always remind me that the carousel with the ponies and the duck boats would be waiting for me once the snow melted. He always made me feel like they were missing me, so it made it bearable. LOL!

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