The Waning Days Of Summer

Thinking about the changing season.

The waning days of summer,
are a magic time for me.
Like the beats of some drummer,
cadence-marked for all to see.

It's more than just the dawning,
as the summer goes to fall.
It's more a season's spawning,
I feel in the mornings' call.

When gray gives way to redness,
and daylight takes the sky,
its beauty leaves me breathless,
I enjoy this Godly high.

For God does paint the cirrus,
with pigments and then with hue
a season soon to leave us
told with color and with dew.

For now enjoy these mornings
as their end comes too fast,
and fall then gives warnings,
of the cold of winter's blast.

Author's Note

Really want feedback on if I need to add a stanza or two or is it complete now.

Reviews

[Ladysue]

Just beautiful! I agree your imagery was magnificent. I love season poems and this one was awesome...

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

This is spot on - definitely finished. Completely agree with the previous reviewer! The description of hue and color is magnificent as is the cadence. Well done! A favorite!

[Eve]

Beautiful, and personally I think it's finished. I think the healthy five stanzas you have, are ample for expressing your love for this season. I think "the cold of winters blast" ends it just as it truly as it ends the fall.