Days of gold

Illustration done for poem
'Days of gold'

The rustling wind
the fragrant cold,
the trees released
their precious gold.

Let's make a pile!
Dad has a rake.
We'll make a mile-long
leafy snake.
Start again, a larger mound!
Conceal ourselves
without a sound,
giggle and twitch
until we're found.

As evening falls
and mother calls,
we'll lie and linger
in the fold,
some treasure found
in days of gold.

*painted with gouache and poster paint.