Like flames cascading down each limb
a golden orange autumn whim
consumes the elm in torrid hues
the palette of a dying muse
that brushes winter off with scorn
for soon the leaves will be reborn.
I ike what you are seeing also with the scenery and trees around you too...Much better is your glad words that the leaves will be reborn..A hopeful poem, pre-winter woes:)
3 comments:
Bob,
I ike what you are seeing also with the scenery and trees around you too...Much better is your glad words that the leaves will be reborn..A hopeful poem, pre-winter woes:)
Happy Pre-winter Bob,
Eileen
Very nice, thanks for sharing.
Hi Eileen and sewa, thanks for your kind comments.
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