So this is a poem I wrote at 12:45 AM Sunday. 

I have this weird "problem" that I can't write anything good until PM so I only have 11 hours to write each day ( if that.)

 But I really wanted to write that Sunday morning so I did. 



Hope it makes sense!!! Please Comment!







Cold Autumn 



The leaves turn brittle and stale,

their limbs rot and age,

the sudden chill turns us pale.



Children play and learn,

bundled in coats and scarves,

we join them in a hasty yearn.



To enjoy the change of weather,

and make best of the good times,

a task best done without tether.



Firelight flows at night, 

a comfort in the cold,

We aren't scared in the slight.



For this winter will sure be harsh,

snow falling in blankets instead of flakes,

here in our hidden Marsh.



All our thoughts are on the joyful season, the cold autumn. 





P.S. For anyone who is wondering where in the world I am 

or if I fell in a dark hole and can't get out (which ever you prefer) 

I've been working very very hard on my novel so I can get some chapters up here, 

so forgive my absence. 

I'm just torturing my self with paper cuts and 

head ache making writer's block in the darkness of night   . 

Also, I have lost my E drive so I have to write all my projects 

I want to post on here on a piece of paper then copy 

them in this message box til I can find it. Oh joy.