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.

I don't want to say this
But out of the gloom,
Senility, most certainly
Has entered the room.

The crispy air, nips at my nose
and as I walk, I feel my toes
starting to tingle, searching for heat,
I must put socks upon my feet.
Not liking to wear socks, not at all,
be it Spring, Winter, Summer or Fall.

Don't be afraid,
She said to me,
For life or death
Will always be
One that will
Soon, set us free.
The pain I feel
Deep within my soul,
Feels like I'm on the
Edge of the rabbit hole.
So here we go, Alice,
Without command.
Down the hole
To Wonderland.