Those Tantalizing Bands

                               (Trying to write a poem Columbus Day)

Across the hills, and far away

The red and gold in bright array,

With young Jack Frost, march hand in hand –

O, gee! Here comes a big brass band!

“Boom, ump-ta-ra-ra,” down the street

With martial tunes that can’t be beat;

With flying colors, golden braid,

Hooray! There goes the big parade!

Let’s see, where was I? Yes, I know,

‘Twas of the rich autumnal glow

That I was writing, autumn’s flush

Laid on by Jack Frost’s nimble brush.

The hills, reflected in the stream,

Enhance the poet’s fondest dream;

A fair bouquet from nature’s hand –

O, gee! Here comes another band!

“Boom, ump-ta-ra-ra,” with a vim,

In Mrs. Howe’s great “Battle Hymn”;

The trombones slashing left and right,

O, what a fine inspiring sight!

But of my verse? It must be done

To waken with tomorrow’s sun.

Fair autumn, would that you could stay

With us forever and a day.

In vain the artist tries to claim

Your beauties on this canvas frame.

No human brain could e’er have planned –

Gee whizz! Another big brass band!

“Boom, ump-ta-ra-ra,” here they come,

With blasting horns and beating drum!

No use, my poem’s up the spout,

Those bands have knocked me down and out.

Oct. 12, ‘10