Then the rains came, from the West
And soaked the ground, with out request.
The leaf's of yellow, gold and brown,
Will soon be falling, to the ground.
Raking and gathering, leaf's so sodden,
Make the best compost, for the garden.
This cycle of life and death, remain
To bring forth the beautiful flowers, again.

No one likes the uncertainty,
Of aging, sometimes not gracefully.
As we age, I must confess
Emotions can become a real mess.
What to do when this happens to you?
Persevere, keep going. That's what we do.

Life is tiring and that's for sure,
but we must push on and endure.
The beauty of words, I must sustain,
lest I be declared, completely insane.

My friend, I don't know about you
and I'm beginning to wonder about me.