Where the Pransers Roam

As the leaves begin to fall
And are taken by the wind,
Our glorious world begins
To prepare for its sweet slumber
A blue juvenile Pranser stands
Overlooking the valley floor.


O’erlooking the valley floor
The little Pranser saw the fall:
He saw where his sameness stands,
And how it was thrown off by the wind.
To be taken to an everlasting slumber
In exchange for a new life to begin.


And as this new life begins,
The little Pranser drops a leaf on the floor
And watches its slumber
As it falls
To be blown by the wind
Away from the little Pranser’s stand.


That was years ago when the Pranser stood standing
And the world was waiting for spring to begin.
Still blown by the wind,
The little Pranser’s reaches down to the floor
In the colors of fall.
In a deep, gray and wintry slumber


Of slumbers,
He sleeps, hand resting on his night stand,
Twitching like a bad dream he falls
Out of bed, and startled, begins
To slowly climb from the floor,
Back into his bed, the wind


Howling through the open window in the windy
Valley floor all in slumber
And quiet from gray floor
To grey floor and night stand.
All waiting patiently for the sun to begin
Its ascension into the sky in fall.


But the wind still blows where the Pransers stand,
Waiting in blue slumber for summer to begin
Hoping the floor will catch them before they fall.