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Laryalee Fraser


Salmon Arm, BC, CA

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Laryalee Fraser

The textured hues of autumn dance
from tree to tree; the flex of green
replaced by crinkled reds and goldsó
and all the shades that flow between.

The colors fall; yet even when
they scatter on the soil below,
each softly clustered leaf retains
the warmth of summer's afterglow.

As winter's chill descends, the leaves
dissolve in moist decay. Unseen,
the colors change; they'll soon return
in half a million shades of green.

Apple Harvest Sonnet


Laryalee Fraser

The orchard waits for strong and eager hands
to pluck the brightly glowing gems. The sun
and rain have marched across these fertile lands,
creating miracles; at last they're done.

It's now our turn to crunch, to taste, to let
the splendid flavor dribble down our chins.
We savor slowly, think how fortunate
we are; it's not among our list of sins.

Was this indeed the fruit that tempted Eve,
that saw the glow of Eden's promise lost?
With every bite, it's easy to believe
she could succumb but how unfair, the cost.

And Adam never got the chance to try
a single slice of fresh-baked apple pie!