An autumn road draws ever near
Hath doth the tunes
That whistle in the wind.
The many wanderers pass by
So softly so quiet
Like unspoken words that never were.
But then like fallen leaves
Memories long forgotten come to the fore.
Whispered so sweetly, joyous moments to savour.
Hearing the sweet sound of children laughing is to be treasured.
By Carole Farish August 2010
Sometimes I like to write. 