Will Rogers: There is no credit to being a comedian when you have the whole government working for you.
The Maple Leaf-A Metaphor for Life
by Rondalyn Whitney
I hope my death is like a maple leaf,
a final, radiant show.
Not a storm of sudden, brutal grief,
but a gentle, amber glow.
To fade as autumn comes to call,
to loosen its grip with grace.
Not cling to the branch, but simply fall,
and find a new resting place.
A flash of crimson, orange, and gold,
a final, vibrant hue.
Then, a slow drift, stories untold,
a journey forever new.
To spin and twirl on the final breeze,
a dance upon the air.
Rustle softly through the autumn trees,
a beauty beyond compare.
And when it lands, a soft, hushed sound,
upon the forest floor.
A new beauty on the cold ground,
until it’s seen no more.