Poem for her 323

Dear Readers,


Those old scrapbooks


The pile was growing high
The leaves were from all over
The bits of twigs and sticks
The pile kept getting bigger
The two of them were amassing
The biggest pile of leaves
They could make
It was not an art project
But it was an art project
You might say
It was their scrapbook
This pile of leaves
Very soon it was over her head
So they just made it wider
Finally they ran out of leaves
No more near by within reason
The pile was the biggest they had made
Well this year anyway
They did this a lot
Big piles of leaves
Sometimes just to pile up
Then scatter the same day
Though other times
It was for several weeks
This pile was for the year
Well what was left of it anyway
As in 2 weeks it'd be a new one
The scrap book pile of leaves
The bits of story line
The pictures these leaves told
They took as many photos as they could
The night was moving in
The pile was there the next morning
And they both smiled
The pile was going to be fun to watch
The compost in the spring
Would be great
They'd have something to do later
The coffee was hot by now
Time for the Mei Fun and eggs on toast


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.