Fall At Woodland Home

It opens one more time, ivory, pale pink and fragrant;
the rose endures the threatened and recurring frost,
just snip a blossom, refuse to desert it vagrant,
before dropped petals pay the usual autumn cost

Oh, how rare is the bright pileated woodpecker,
so huge, partakes of suet hospitably prepared,
for various descriptions of see-eating visitors,
see, in large mouthfuls, he has vigorously shared

Ground-feeding birds stop by for tasty, dropped leftovers,
not above humbly gleaning for goodies on the ground,
cheerfully hopping among the grasses and the clover,
one eye open for a cat that might slyly steal around.

The "Ha. ha, ha, ha" cry of that big woodpecker,
may persist even if no other humans should reside.
The aging trees,welcome, with soft spots, wormy or decayed,
hollow trees, picked clean by noisy pecking, small beasts hide.

The home within the surrounding woodland shelter
a place for domestic flowers and wildlife to be viewed:
Sit by my fire ; a deer may pause, or skip helter skelter;
watch a line of wild turkeys pass by in martial mood.

Sunset may scatter between blown, naked branches;
a changing ,breeze may coax your coat up near your chin;
as you look on neighbor's homes resembling ranches,
and see the smoke of our own chimney smile, "Come in."