The last solemn day.
Gone the leaves of May.
Creep slowly with solemn Grey.
Meadow lark sings no more.
Times eternity, an open door.
Sweet smells fill an empty room.
My soul flew past a naked moon.
Romance has found a silver spoon.
Empty cry of a desolate loon.

copyright 2005 POEWHIT
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JESUS SAVES

JOE POEWHIT

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/summers-end-3/