Blue Meadows
Blue Meadows Dean Sorenmann In fall, the hue of golden colors Finds relief in blue meadows Each crimson color Casting aside dark relief Splashing colorful happiness Before the slumber of winter hues Is is time for long walks Under the canopy of bright colors It is time to drink in all the splendor Of the fall, the pallet, the color The crackle, under feet, of leaves The silence of the hour along the street Each passing beam of light Catches the soft and warm embrace Of two hands entwined like lace In Fall, we muse of golden lovers Who light in blue meadows To find wistful colors of the heart Of flames, sparks and embers I dedicate this poem to all those who worked at Rivertown Trading Company and who were laughing and taking it easy during a fall day on break. Particularly, a shout out to Brad Bellaver, who asked me why I was so quiet, sitting a bit separate from everyone else. I told him I was writing poetry. As we were talking about it, I told him I could pound one out in about 5