November Foretold

November's grimly peeking through the glass;
seems bleak for those who to the summer cling,
resist the change as ordered seasons pass,
forgetting late fall has its song to sing.

The wind that whirls the leaves in random piles,
the bonfire smoke and cheery starlit nights,
brisk day times, we enjoy or put the miles,
behind us, driving south or book our flights.

For those of stouter hearts or those employed,
the fall entices with its outdoor charms.
Long-planned treks of hunting are enjoyed;
the fullness of the harvest stored on farms.

Those winds that shifted northerly, now whistle,
relenting, they may whisper in the eaves,
a softening of summertime's dismissal,
enlivening the attitude that grieves.

Another feature of the present year,
though governmental hassles do persist
A Nation Under God has one less fear:
No national elections on the list.

Anticipate November's kindly time;
Come sit, enjoy the theaters' song, or play.
Loved Indian Summer, feature of this clime,
foreruns the queen of fall, Thanksgiving Day.