As leaves float down,
In Autumn dance beneath the trees
To dust the earth in shades of red,
Russet, gold, a wondrous spread;
A crimson sun on wooded lees.
These are the sprites of nature's ease
Who twist and twirl in merry tease
Then land
As leaves float down.
The artist's brush paints as he sees
The bloodied ground a startling frieze
While poet's write in mournful dread
A metaphor of loves' tears shed
Yet seasons pass as each does please,
As leaves float down.
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For some reason I'm yet to fathom I'm unable to reply to comments left by others so thank you for dropping by and taking the time to read and comment. Merlene