Autumn

Another walking among seasons and holy beads As our thoughts moves clouds in a grey sky, And paint the leaves above our heads; With a priori color of serenity, your eyes try To open the white gates of transparent joyous morning; The air got the scent of hot apple pies, the smile -a meaning Of what the fingers are touching and what they are dreaming; Are those our guardian-angels who silently walk by? The rain of the morning tea falling from heights; A new painted bench seemed to be almost dry; White statues sit on the grass near the brave knights; Two angels with glass wings have just learnt to fly. But, leaves` procession under the kiss of the wind; Buds of faith and hope live in philosophical mind.