Richard's Poor Almanac by Richard Thompson for September 16, 2013
Transcript:
in the autumn a poem in the autumn, when it's fall, mother nature comes to call on every hill, in every dale, in forest, meadow, field & vale, with skill she wields her magic brush, so brings the trees to brilliant blush mother nature: we'll do the next one in a sort of harvest gold. squirrel 1: she knows they're just going to drop off, right? squirrel 2: you tell her. with her palette, bright & rich, and her taste for showy kitsch.
Sisyphos over 11 years ago
A Richard rhyme makes fall bearable.
jack fairbanks over 11 years ago
better leaf her alone. her taste could change from showy kitsch
drose57 Premium Member over 11 years ago
Color her ditzy-kitschy!
WaitingMan over 11 years ago
Mother Nature’s got a balcony you could do Shakespeare from. (Thank you Firesign Theatre.)