Trip to the sheshed ,
I was carrying a chair and two totes,
Teturning to my home,
I chanced to look down,
The.vista before me ,
Captured the essense of my imagination,
In a trice I had ssiled away,
My mass a mighty Oak leave,
I was the size of a Lillyputten,
Of Guliver’s fame,
The music playibg in my head of course was the “Love Boat’, ABC Saturday night melodrama,
Every non working movie star was aboat, upon the deck,
Rubbing elbows with everyday gay poet like me!
Then zap I was back!
In a heao upon the ground,
The mighty Oak leaf,
Abbormally small,
Perfection manificient,
With a tinge of gold,
The still perfect in firm and size, this oak leaf,
My eyes are not mine,
The salt of day before taint my vision ,
It saddened me that the end of its story was about to manifest,
Fallen like a moment in time,
Over as it had begun with the past leaf season,
Goodbye little leaf,
Val Whitewolf 