Too soon the tune turns sour and sharp,<br /> no more the tones of lute or harp,<br /> for fall forebodes the dirge to come,<br /> as winter's whisper starts to hum;<br /> <br /> Then, suddenly, it sings, full-throat,<br /> as if it's throttling a goat;<br /> the piercing screams are heard on high,<br /> on its arrival, never shy;<br /> <br /> It sweeps the stage, in full review,<br /> and turns the page, as is its due;<br /> no diva gave a better show,<br /> than winter with its snowy blow.<br /> <br /> Bob LeMessurier<br /> Maddox Cove, NL   Submitted By: Robert LeMessurier