The sweet smell of  pine, dry and crisp,
A wild and savage garden, this.
Autumn leaves scurry , flurry by
As bold colored snowflakes from a twilight sky.

The lonely cry of the owl - the deer
Who slowly make their way past here
Know more than I the times to be
Amongst these ancient, lovely trees.

Autumn in Georgia- a special time
For pleasant memories to unwind
Of childhood love, and home, and kin
To long for these- begin again;

But, oh, the winding road is long.
It beckons me to go back home.
This garden I leave, as soft Southern light
Dims, as the day now turns to night.

-written by (c)Wendy S. Madison All Rights Reserved