| General Poetry
posted October 20, 2021
The Glory of Autumn
There's Gold in Them Thar Hills
I opened the drapes to the sound of rain,
dear little drops danced gaily on my windowpane
Some hit the glass and left trails as they slid down
making diamonds like a Queen's royal crown
Then I looked up on the hill across the way
and saw swirling leaves as they chased in play
Then I remembered in History class long ago
this call of old miners as into hills they did go
There's gold in them thar hills they would cry
As pieces of yellow from the ground, they did pry
Now that gold is still there, shiny and gleaming
But not in the ground with its natural streaming
Now it is trees with leaves that glitter and shine
in a riotous field of beauty that is all mine
Looking out the window is a joy
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