Frogs burrow the mud

snails bury themselves

and I air my quilts

preparing for the cold

Dogs grow more hair

mothers make oatmeal

and little boys and girls

take Father John's Medicine

Bears store fat

chipmunks gather nuts

and I collect books

For the coming winter

Nikki Giovanni

once a snowflake fell

on my brow and i loved

it so much and i kissed

it and it was happy and called it's cousins

and brothers and a web

of snow engulfed me then

i reached to love them all

and i squeezwd them and they became

a spring rain and i stood perfectly

still and was a flower

         Nikki Giovanni

      We may enjoy the beauty

      Of a giant redwood tree,

      Or glory in the wonder of

      A wild, wind-blown sea.

Our eyes delight in sprouting plants,

      Born from tiny seeds,

Then seperate each dainty flower...

      Entangled in the weeds.

      An ornate shurb in autumntime

      That turns from green to gold

      Gives promise of an unseen hand

      Which paints the earth so bold.

A pristine scene no man can paint

Is Winter's first snowfall

Where neither paw nor footprint mars

The picture overall.

      Let us share the magic as we

      Ponder Nature's part,

      For all are miracles that fill...

      An ever grateful heart.

          Angie Monnens