Merlin1047
Senior Member
The following started out as a letter to my favorite sister. I own a Honda Gold Wing. For those non-biker types that's a touring bike, built for travelling long distances. I love getting on it and winding it up on back country roads. Great stress reliever. Well, here was this beautiful fall Saturday and I had to clean up the damn yard. I was not a happy camper. After I finished my yard chores, I e-mailed sis and griped a little (knowing I wasn't getting any sympathy). After I finished, I proof read it and saw some possibilities. So I did a bit of reformatting, took a little poetic license and this is the end result. No, it's not a literary masterpiece, but maybe it will give you a chuckle. Especially if you're a bike fanatic like me.
Leaves.
Fall.
That season of bright sunshine
and brisk temperatures.
They have been waiting silently
since spring.
Plotting, brooding sullenly.
Now they attack.
Their once green foliage
dropping to earth
like paratroopers on D-Day.
Oak, dogwood, hickory in conspiracy.
Pine, that liar
who pretends to keep his crown
while all the while surreptitiously
dropping brown needles
onto my carefully manicured lawn.
Magnolia, like a crafty woman,
convinces you to keep her
by wearing beautiful flowers
in her hair.
Then dumps huge, ugly, brown leaves
by the millions.
Once again I sally forth dutifully
to clear the lawn of the myriad leaves
gleefully deposited
by my sadistic wooden tormentors.
On the way i pass my two wheeled friend.
She sits gleaming silently in the garage.
Looking like a huge red glass sculpture
lighted from within.
Inviting me once again to fly down country roads.
Speed limits be damned.
Heavy sigh.
Rake in hand,
I go to do my penance.
As soon as I begin to rake,
the leaves cease to fall.
They are watching, waiting.
I finish.
The lawn is clear and pristine.
I put the rake away
and return to the front yard
to admire the fruit of my efforts.
To my horror,
it looks the same as it did
before I started.
In a blind fury I find the chain saw.
I crank it and walk around the yard.
The saw makes that satisfying,
threatening cacophony as I rev its engine.
It scares the sap out of them.
I scrape just a little bark
off their arrogant hides
for good measure.
The leaves stop falling.
Now they will hang on
for at least a week.
Another victory,
albeit temporary.
Leaves.
Nature's way
of screwing up my weekend.
Leaves.
Fall.
That season of bright sunshine
and brisk temperatures.
They have been waiting silently
since spring.
Plotting, brooding sullenly.
Now they attack.
Their once green foliage
dropping to earth
like paratroopers on D-Day.
Oak, dogwood, hickory in conspiracy.
Pine, that liar
who pretends to keep his crown
while all the while surreptitiously
dropping brown needles
onto my carefully manicured lawn.
Magnolia, like a crafty woman,
convinces you to keep her
by wearing beautiful flowers
in her hair.
Then dumps huge, ugly, brown leaves
by the millions.
Once again I sally forth dutifully
to clear the lawn of the myriad leaves
gleefully deposited
by my sadistic wooden tormentors.
On the way i pass my two wheeled friend.
She sits gleaming silently in the garage.
Looking like a huge red glass sculpture
lighted from within.
Inviting me once again to fly down country roads.
Speed limits be damned.
Heavy sigh.
Rake in hand,
I go to do my penance.
As soon as I begin to rake,
the leaves cease to fall.
They are watching, waiting.
I finish.
The lawn is clear and pristine.
I put the rake away
and return to the front yard
to admire the fruit of my efforts.
To my horror,
it looks the same as it did
before I started.
In a blind fury I find the chain saw.
I crank it and walk around the yard.
The saw makes that satisfying,
threatening cacophony as I rev its engine.
It scares the sap out of them.
I scrape just a little bark
off their arrogant hides
for good measure.
The leaves stop falling.
Now they will hang on
for at least a week.
Another victory,
albeit temporary.
Leaves.
Nature's way
of screwing up my weekend.
