The Poetry and Short Stories of Betty Lou Hebert *ASSOCIATE  MEMBER* The Writing Forum’s Writer of the Month - January 2003 The Writing Forum’s Writer of the Month - April 2006 THE WRITING FORUM’S WRITER OF THE YEAR - 2008   AUTHOR’S BIO: I’m widowed and live in the country, in north Idaho, with my handicapped son. We enjoy the life here and all the wildlife we see. I have three older offspring who are married. I've been writing for many years, actually since I was around ten years old and have been writing steadily for the past fifteen years or so. My interests are many and varied. I love to travel, read, write, do craft work, garden, cook, and enjoy music of many kinds. PUBLICATIONS: I have work published in seventy-five small press magazines and books, and Drury's Publishing included six of my poems in their book, "Terrorists Attack America". I have poems included in a book by Stacy Smith titled, "Along the River and Through Flowered Fields”. I have my own book of poetry titled, “Phantoms Passing” and my historical romance novella, “Heritage of Hawk Hill”, was released in March, 2008. My newest publiction, “A Haunted Heart”, was released in October of 2010. For ordering information please Email me at the address below. To read the short story version of my novella, “Heritage of Hawk Hill”, published here at The Writing Forum, please click here. Email: bettylouhebert@yahoo.com   POETRY BY BETTY LOU HEBERT Click on the button in front of any title in the list below to be linked to that poem:  The Daily Wood  The Celery and the Onion  King Rufous  One Day in May  Mountain King  The Living Roots  Eagle Nebula  Echo Valley  Flash Flood  Where Grasses Grow  Wind and Whispers  Eagle  Fox Sparrow  Spring Dreams  Yesterday  Sail Away  Wanting  Moving Away  The Mustang Years  Rocky Canyon  Until the Splendor Fades  Above the Sea  The Orchard  Summer Dreams  Moonshell Memories  Pink Twilight  Burned Bridges  A Brand New Beau  A Bed of Clover  Angels Sang  An Afternoon Away  Frosty Morn  Poseidon Calls  Before the Flowers  A Promise  A Gift of Light  Communion  To A Lost Brother  In The Artic Night  Blue Shadows  A Stillness in the Air  A Silver Spell  A Morning in October  Voices in the Wind  Watching the Wild  Song of the Polar Sea  Night Visitors  It's Autumn!   The Daily Wood I have a charming Siamese cat Who daily tries to show me that He is consumed with gratitude, For shelter and his dish of food. The way he does this is unique. He scans the wood box, there to seek A tiny bit of wood, or two And then he leaves them in plain view, Upon my bedspread, everyday. These wooden splinters on display All tell me he appreciates The pampered life he lives and rates, The services and comfort, good And thanks me with his gifts of wood!   The Celery and the Onion The celery and the onion Were sitting side by side. "You turn me green with envy." The slender celery cried. "You are so firm and fragrant And most completely round There's never any doubt at all Wherever you are found." "Dear celery", said the onion, "Now what you say is true. But where would cooking be today Without the likes of you? I dare say many dishes Would lack that savoir-faire And suffer from insipidness Without your presence there!" So they kept trading compliments, Though each one thought he knew Which one was most important, But they both got diced for stew!   King Rufous His gorget flashing brilliant orange, The rufous comes just like a flame. He chases all the others off As though it is a children's game And while he is pursuing one, Another comes to take a drink. He has to hurry though because, Rufous is quick as a wink! He sits above the feeder jar, Surveys the area to see, If any hummingbirds appear To challenge his sovereignty. A greedy little king he is But we forgive his miser ways. To see him fly is such a joy And adds such  beauty to our days!   One Day in May One day in May, I'll realize How I have longed for cloudless skies. The beauty of each field and stream, Where wild flag grows and lilies dream. How I have missed the sound of trees, All rustling with each passing breeze. I'll smell the scent of saps that flow To nourish life and help things grow And in the air, the birds will fly, Carrying grass to nests nearby, Where very soon, I hear the sound Of many offspring all around. The sight of every blooming thing Reminds me how I love the spring.   Mountain King Upon a barren ridge, alone, A noble fir, that forms a cone, Stands high above the woods below Now dusted with new fallen snow. The winds that blow around it, keen, And keep it looking fresh and green. It towers over all the land. A living thing, completely grand! They sometimes live one thousand years. A person climbing to it hears A rustle and a whispering. It has a special song to sing, Which tells of seasons it has grown, And the parade of life it's known. It makes a most impressive sight And even on the darkest night, I sense it watching everything, As befits a mountain king!   The Living Roots I blossomed underneath the spell Of loving words, you spoke so well. Each day was sweeter than the last, But suddenly, that time was past And you grew distant, even strange. Then everything began to change. So I know how the flowers feel, When cooling weather starts to steal The warmth that they so badly need. The drops of dew that start to bead Upon their petals, look like tears, But if they're crying, no one hears. Yet down below the withered mass, Protected by the matted grass, Their roots will live the winter through And flower in the springtime too. There is a lesson here I see, That also could apply to me. Someday there'll be a fresh, new start. That creates hope within my heart!   Eagle Nebula I know you're out there in the the sky, But I can't see you with my eye. A telescope is necessary If I'm going to spot my quarry. Of course Hubble is the one That can get this project done. It sends pictures back to earth, Proving constsantly, it's worth And in the countless nebulae There is one whose strange array, Fires my imagination. Fills me with a strange elation! Like a fairy, standing high, On rocky peak, she travels by, Blown by wind and warmed with fire, Does she watch us with desire? Or does she even know we're here Spying on her atmosphere? It's hard to believe this fetching mass Is made of stars and drifting gas!   Echo Valley At the bottom of the canyon, A path leads you to the falls And you hear the echoes bouncing Off the high and rocky walls. You can wander by the streambed, Where the fern and bracken grow, While the water murmurs to you In a symphony, below. It's always peaceful country And you hear the birds extol The beauty of the woodland. There's a stirring in your soul! The sunlight leaves the valley And you know it's time to leave, Though you hate to lose the magic That this special place can weave!   Flash Flood It was early in the morning And the rain was pouring down. We were busy getting ready For our weekly trip to town. Someone galloped up the canyon, Then we heard somebody shout, But we couldn't understand him, So we both went running out. "Flash flood coming!" he was saying Faintly then, we heard a roar. We just turned and started running Without waiting anymore. Round our cabin, up the hillside, Just as fast as we could go. Scrambling, sliding, even falling. How we made it I don't know. Ninety feet above the canyon, When we had to stop and rest, We could see the water coming And it's foaming, dirty crest. When it slammed into our cabin, It just crumbled with a thud And every single thing we owned Was then buried under mud. It was a mighty wall of water. There was nothing we could do And thre sight of the destruction, Really shocked us through and through. When it was finally over And the houses there were gone, We were glad we had each other And the will to carry on!   Where Grasses Grow There is a world where grasses grow That's like no other place I know. It's here the birds nest on the ground, Because there are no trees around And as the night begins to pass, They rise by thousands from the grass. Each feathered throat bursts into song. At intervals, the whole day long They sing, a joyous song to hear That falls like blessings to my ear. The prairie flowers in the spring Are like a garden and they bring Their vibrant colors to the land. A medley made by nature's hand And there's that great expanse of sky. Domain of bird and butterfly And just before I go to sleep, I make a promise I will keep, To spend more time and get to know This prairie world, where grasses grow!   Wind and Whispers I hear your name in winds that blow. In whispers from the falling snow. In songs of birds, in summer rain. They bring you back to me again. Then memories come flooding through, So I relive my time with you And in my dreams you're always there, All facets of my life to share. When I awake, I am bereft, With only wind and whispers left!   Eagle I rise on air so fresh and clear And downward at the earth I peer. Each vale and valley I can see. Each lake and river, perfectly. It's over fields I like to glide. That's where the wild hare likes to hide. Then up I soar and higher still. I scream and plummet for the kill. Then later on, the winds I race. There's only me and endless space! The tallest tree is home to me, Or rocky ledge poised loftily. In my solitude I wait. I am eagle. I am great!   Fox Sparrow Against the house, where shrubberies grow, Protected from thre winter snow, A little sparrow, brown and shy, Has found a spot that's mostly dry. I watch him flitting in and out And worry there are cats about. I throw him birdseed from a cup And watch him while he eats it up. He adds a blessing to my day. I'll miss him when he goes away!   Spring Dreams Wind of spring, your fragrant traces Carry me to distant places, Over mountains vast and deep, Where snow-locked valleys lie asleep, Cross the desert and the plain, Waiting for life-giving rain, To the ocean, wild and free, Onward still, you carry me. I can feel the tropic heat. Hear sand crunch beneath my feet. Surely sweet Hawaii calls Here within my bedroom walls!   Yesterday Just when I think that I can sleep, My memory decides to keep A vigil over yesterday And carries me away, Back to the past, reluctantly, To where my childhood waits for me And I relive the joy and pain Of growing up again! The places and the faces there Are lost to me, but I still care. Remembering them is sweet and yet, I wish I could forget, For sorrow walks those roads with me And makes unwelcome company. The hands of time still can't dispel Remembering, so well!   Sail Away Long ago, there was a day We'd board our boat and sail away, To visit islands in the Sound. Search for a place we'd not be found. We'd swim and fish and soak up sun And when each happy day was done, We'd have a fire on the shore, To stretch the day a little more. But finally, we'd row on back To where our sailboat rode the slack Waters of a turning tide. There in the cockpit, side by side, We'd watch the stars pass overhead Before we'd seek our welcome bed. Those days are gone, but I still feel The current underneath the keel, The wind and sun in summer skies. I just have to close my eyes!   Wanting I want to sit where I can dream, Perhaps beside a lazy stream, That chuckles as it glides along And sings a throaty, water song. I want to walk where shadows play Across the path, then slip away. Where every whim of breeze and tree, Commands the leaves to speak to me. I want to sleep beyond the dune Where all night long, the ocean's tune Does whisper on the beach below And lulls me with its ebb and flow. I want to live where I can be A part of nature's symphony. Where I can savor every sound And wonder, of the world around!   Moving Away I am about to move away From things that I enjoy each day. My house and yard, the deer that come To have a snack, or look for some Feed that I have placed out there, So squirrels and birds can have a share. I've had an offer to depart And live within the desert's heart. No snow or ice, no fog or sleet. That really sounds like quite a treat! How will the hot days deal with me? I guess I have to wait and see, But at least I can get cool By jumping into the backyard pool!   The Mustang Years I've come back to the desert, Where I came long years ago. My pal and I caught horses For a traveling rodeo. We learned to know the secrets Of this mighty, awesome land, A-trailing after mustangs And we learned to know each band. Now some are gone to bullets, And the winters take some too And some are gone for dog food With their hooves made into glue. Some of them are rounded up And adopted out, they say, But some still roam this country, For I saw their tracks today. Lying here, upon the ground And just staring at the sky, I guess it must be raining, For I don't know how to cry. My cheeks are wet with something. I suppose it must be tears, Reliving all the memories Of those vanished, mustang years!   Rocky Canyon With shaded eyes, I stand and gaze Across the valley, veiled in haze, To where the mountains lift and soar, Far above the shadowed floor. Purple foothills dimmed from sight With the advent of the night, But far above, the sun still shows Upon a snowy peak that glows. I find a trail that leads me down Through rocky walls of red and brown, Until a level place is found. A little patch of camping ground. With a fire quickly kindled, As the last light waned and dwindled, Listened to a coyote's call. Watched the patterns on the wall. In my sleeping bag, I stare At the canopy up there, Where a brilliant star, that gleams, Leads me to the land of dreams!   Until the Splendor Fades Above the lake, the moon tonight, Silvers everything in sight. Every shrub, each bush and tree, Gleams and glows metallically. Silver roses line the way To where the spring throws silvery spray Shimmering through the air to fall Back into the waterfall. On the grass, each drop of dew, Is made of liquid silver too. In the woods, where shadows play, Silver moonbeams lose their way. There is a magic quality In this lustrous night I see. How it calls to me to stay Until the splendor fades away!   Above the Sea Above the sea, the cliffs rise high As though to pierce the misty sky And on their tops, gnarled trees are seen, The color faded from their green By endless years of salt and spray, While overhead, the wild gulls play. Above the sea, the flowers grow. Their colors so alive, they glow And everywhere you look, you see The fields and hills, like tapestry. But all the while you wander there, The sea wind tangles up your hair And sings you songs, the live-long day. Enchants your soul so you will stay Dependent on the sight and sound, Of wind and ocean, all around!   The Orchard This house has been abandoned many years. I pass it every time I go to town. The upper window looks as though it peers Between the limbs of trees,  now winter brown. The orchard always flowers every spring. The trees don't know their owner is away. So they invite the birds to come and sing And bring forth all their sweet fruit anyway. I go there for some apples in the fall. The reddest ones are always up too high. I pick a few for sauce and pies, that's all, And leave the rest for poorer folks than I And by the time the rain has turned to sleet, No fruit is on the bough, or on the ground. What people haven't carried off to eat, Wild creatures have come quietly and found.   Summer Dreams The fall wind blows my summer dreams away And lets me know that winter's drawing nigh. There were so many things I planned to do, Now gone like smoke, into the summer sky. I put the thought of snow and cold behind. Go out into the fading summertime. Each vestige of this verdant span I find, I press like fragrant flowers, in my mind!   Moonshell Memories When you were young, we used to go Down to the beach that lay below Our cliff-side house and there explore The treasures left along the shore. We'd wade in shallow water and Watch for moon shells in the sand. The empty ones we'd carry back Secured within a canvas sack. Around our flower  beds they lay. Both shells and driftwood on display. So many afternoons we went And they were times so sweetly spent! You're grown now and years have passed, But I still hold those memories fast. I see the sound and feel the breeze, When we made moon shell memories!   Pink Twilight The dinner dishes are all done. I walk outside to watch the sun That sinks into the colored nest Of clouds, that tower in the west And as I watch, the colors flare, Until at last, the very air Seems tinged with pink and mountains too Are painted in this rosy hue. I lift my head to look on high. Flaming, feathered clouds drift by And all the world from east to west Is with pink twilight blushes blessed!   Burned Bridges You can't go home again, they say, Things change so much from day to day. But I went back and there I found, A few familiar things around. It all seemed smaller though, somehow. I would not want to live there now. The memories came thick and fast. And when I turned to go at last, I realized the tide had turned And where my youthful heart once yearned Were ashes, from my bridges burned!   A Brand New Beau My fourth grade teacher, grim and stern, Was busy dating, I did learn, A young and pretty aunt of mine, So I was made to toe the line, Lest anyone would say that he Was making "teacher's pet" of me! I couldn't make the slightest move And hope that somehow he'd approve. He'd grade my papers grudgingly. I seldom got more than a "C". If all the answers were correct, My penmanship was usually checked! He thought it woefully below The graceful hand that I should show. A smudge or wrinkled paper drew Insulting comments and I knew, The year ahead was sure to be A most unpleasant trial for me! Somehow, I managed to survive. My sense of humor still alive, But I was mad as a wet hen, When after all my misery, then, My aunt decided he must go And found herself a brand new beau!   A Bed of Clover I went into the woods today And slept the afternoon away, Upon a bed of clover where Sunshine warmed the fragrant air. Then when I woke to stretch and yawn, I saw the day was nearly gone. I sat a moment just to share Surrounding beauty waiting there. The trees and plants, the flowers too, The birds that I saw flying through, All made me glad that I could be A part of nature's harmony!   Angels Sang The angels sang to me today. I heard their voices far away, But as I listened, they drew near, Until each sound was loud and clear. I couldn't understand a word Within this music that I heard. It seemed to be a foreign tongue And while I wandered there among These lovely creatures, couldn't see Why they should sing like this for me. What could I possibly have done To earn this gift from even one? There must have been a reason why. Perhaps I'll know as time goes by, Why I was honored by this horde Who answer only to the Lord!   An Afternoon Away I spent an afternoon away, Deep in the woods, behind our place. I lay on grass so soft and green, Watched nodding heads of Queen Anne's Lace Bow gently to a passing breeze And pressed sweet blossoms to my face. I listened to the songs of birds And followed them from tree to tree, Until I lost all track of time, Nor thought about where I should be. Then when the day grew dark and cold, Reluctantly, I turned to go. The shadowed pathway stretched ahead, Back to the home I love and know!   Frosty Morn The fields lie whitened under frost. The steaming lake's dark surface lost Beneath a cloud of swirling mist. The tendrils rise and turn and twist. It looks just like a witch's brew. I don't care for some, do you? The tamaracks on hills nearby Point golden branches at the sky And as the sun warms up the air, I hear bird voices, everywhere!   Poseidon Calls Misty morn, the sea is calling. I must watch the breakers falling. High on a cliff, the gulls wheel by. Their snowy wings caress the sky. I stare into the foaming green, Pretending I'm Poseidon's queen. Dripping pearls with all I wear. Corals clasp my floating hair. Drifing where the currents roam. Soon forgetting kin and home. Listen to the sea-wind blow. Mesmerizing ebb and flow. I plunge into the depths below. Poseidon calls and I must go!   Before the Flowers When we met, I think I knew That I was meant to be with you. The weeks went by, we didn't show What each of us had come to know. Then in the spring, you brought to me A sweet bouquet that fragrantly Spoke the words you hadn't said And with a glance or two it led To time we spent in findng out What these feelings were about. How we talked and rued the hours Spent alone, before the flowers! However, now in looking back, I realize there was no lack Of invitation in those days, When we each went our separate ways!   A Promise Off in the east, a promise lies, Showing in the glowing skies, That herald the rising of the sun And tell us night is nearly done. The day that's dawning is pristine. There is no future to be seen, Of what this span of time may hold. Will it be dross, will it be gold? But for this moment, I just care About the beauty growing there!   A Gift of Light One Christmas Eve, when off to bed, I thought I'd step outside instead To see the stars shine clear and bright, But instead an awesome sight Blessed my eyes with a display That nearly took my breath away! The sky was filled with floating bands Of brilliant colored, swirling strands. Red and green a hint of blue And in between I saw a few Stars that shone with erxtra light, Or so it seemed that special night. Aurora's banners tossed on high, Undulating cross the sky. A Christmas gift it seemed to be. I hoped that other folks than me Were looking up and held in place By this phenomena in space!   Communion We walked into the woods today And found a quiet place to pray, Surrounded by the gifts that He Bestowed on us so generously! The grass and flowers, trees and sky, The birds and butterflies nearby. The warmth of sun, the touch of breeze, Fair Eden surely sheltered these! There was communion of a kind Even those in church don't find. Perhaps because our Lord began To teach outdoors, wherever man Was occupied with daily chores. His words there opened gilded doors To where each man's salvation lay. He went before and led the way. No building made by man, though grand, Can top what's made by God's own hand!   To A Lost Brother I packed up all your things today, That I had carefully stowed away. There wasn't very much to show For one man's life and I don't know If you are still alive or not, It's been so long since I have sought To find a trace of you somewhere. You didn't keep in touch or share The changes in your life, once we Had both reached our maturity. The war, which changed so many souls, Gave each of us such different goals And meetings became far and few, Till I no longer heard from you. Now, today, from out your past, A daughter, who has tracked at last The family tie to me and mine, Has questions that I can't define. There are no answers I can find. Just give her what's been left behind. Some letters, cards, mementos too. Old photographs of me and you, When we were growing boys and teens. My mind is filled with family scenes. My heart is filled with such regrets. Sometimes in life, the Master lets Us gimpse vignettes that might have been. This daughter you have never seen, Since she was but a little lass, Now has two sons. The seasons pass! This blank page in her history, Has fueled her search and so I see It's time to pass these relics on. I hope wherever you have gone You sometimes think of family And wonder what became of me!   In The Arctic Night Across a wild and frozen land, Moves a small, intrepid band Of people with a guide to show The way to where they want to go. There is an outpost way out there Where they can view the polar bear. They have a team of huskies who Pull their sled, as huskies do, With provisions piled on for Their sustenance while they explore. One night the dogs were all staked out. The people, tented all about, When someone saw a bear come in. The dogs began to raise a din. The bear approached the leead dog, then, Imagine the amazement when The bear who was so large and white Showed it filled him with delight, To play games with the husky so They rolled and tussled in the snow! Next morning they went on but knew At a distance, the bear came too. Each night engaged the dogs in play But before morning, moved away. For the week left on the trail, This strange friendship without fail, Flourished in the Arctic night, Bringing wonder at the sight! Although some other bears were seen, The people found it didn't mean Quite as much as one they saw Greet their huskies paw to paw!   Blue Shadows Blue shadows lie beneath the trees And fall across the road. The sun is sinking quickly To its wintertime abode. I walk in patterned majesty. The only sound I hear Is crunch of snow, the whisper As of somone moving near. I look into the darkened wood. There's nothing I can see And yet I feel that something Stares silently at me!   A Stillness in the Air There sometimes comes a country day When noises all have fled away. From early morning, I'm aware There is a stillness in the air. The birds I hear give muted peeps. No breezes blow, no squirrel leaps To reach the feeder where the seed Will help supply their daily need. No barking dogs, no children shout. No traffic moving in and out. It seems as though the world awaits Momentous deeds. Perhaps the Fates, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos Just can't decide which way to go And as they muse, our destiny Hangs in suspense, or could it be, They lie asleep, so we are free To plan our course, capriciously? At any rate, it's strange and rare To have such quiet everywhere!   A Silver Spell The moonlight sifting through the leaves, In the apple orchard, weaves Patterns made of black and light That decorate the winter night. In the meadow's silvered space, Moon-mad horses wheel and race. The lake is like a sheet of glass. Now and then, small ripples pass Across its surface and I know That silver fish must swim below. All night long the spell remains. Night birds sing their sweet refrains, Till finally, with fickle sighs, The wanton moon deserts the skies!   A Morning in October It's a wild and windy morning And the air is full of sighs And the mist is drifting, drifting, Where the reedy water lies. I can hear a raven calling As he rides upon the breeze And the leaves are falling, falling, From the lonely autumn trees. It's a wild and windy morning And my heart is sad to hear The sound of wild geese calling From the higher atmosphere And the winter's nearly with us When the days are cold and gray And the snow is blowing, blowing, So I put my dreams away!   Voices in the Wind Across the sage land soft wind blows. Every ear that hears it knows, The muted sounds within its air Are women's voices, calling there. Calling in hopes that someone will hear. And help them fight their lonely fear. So often on a ranch alone. Or at a mine, each one has known A hunger for the sight and sound Of other womenfolk around. A chance to visit and to share The problems each one has to bear. Facing flash floods, prairie fire, Rustlers, illness, cut barbed wire, Wild stampedes and scattered herds, Each one tells in her own words, What it is like to bear a child, All alone and someplace wild! Always watching down the trail, Hoping someday there'll be mail. Or riding range land to fill in, When cattle roundup will begin. Plus, doing all the housework too And cooking for a hungry crew. Wherever men decide to roam, Their women go, to make a home   Watching the Wild I know that someday I will cry hot tears, As land I've come to love, just disappears! When people move into the woods and plains, So little of the natural world remains And while it causes pain within my core, Affects the creatures living there, much more! Though I can move into a house in town, Where do they go when the last tree comes down? Each year I see new inroads that are torn From places where the wilderness was born. The beaver who once teemed throughout this land, Succumbed beneath the weight of man's cruel hand. The deer we used to see most everyday, Are hunted out or driven far away. No longer do the elk, the moose and bear Lead simple lives and even in their lair, Some animals are hunted just the same, By packs of hunting dogs. It's such a shame. Why can't we share this wilderness that they Have lived in countless years before our day? I pray we learn to leave more wilds to show The land that GOD created, long ago!   Song of the Polar Sea Come with me to the Polar Sea, Where the ice wind's blowing Gem crystals high, against the sky And a pale sun's glowing. Hold me tight in the Arctic night, In the earth's far reaches. The land bleached white with Arctic light And the great whale breaches. Ice caverns, green and never seen Where the dark sea's rolling And sounds you hear are crisp and clear, Like a cold bell, tolling. Come, if you dare, to hunt the bear Where the sea-ice grinding, Hides the beat of his furry feet And the light is blinding! Would love endure in air so pure? The wind a biting knife. Or would it quail and finally fail In man's fierce quest for life?   Night Visitors I wish that I had eyes to see Beyond the wall of greenery That rings my yard with leafy trees And ferns that grow above my knees. I know that there is life in there, For I hear voices everywhere. Birds and animals. No telling, Who they are, within there dwelling. Some voices I can recognize, But some would be a big surprise. Sometimes I'll see a shape or two That's shadowed deeply from my view. I try to guess what it might be, Yet they are really lost to me. They probably come onto my lawn, When it is dark and I am gone Into the house to spend the night, For I see signs in morning's light. My flower bed in disarray, Shows something surely passed this way And stopped to take a bite or two, The evidence is in plain view!   It's Autumn! It's autumn, so we put away Things that we used every day. The badminton, the basketball. The outdoor table I recall We sat at daily for a meal, The outoors having much appeal, Beside the creek where we could see The hummingbirds fly joyfully To reach the feeder, glowing red, And knowing they would soon be fed. The hoses will be drained and hung Until next summer's songs are sung. Leaves will be raked and gathered too, Until there's nothing left to do, Except enjoy the changing scene Of beauty that lies here between The heat of summer, winter's chill. I've always loved it, always will.