Autumn
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I went for a walk to collect Autumn leaves,
that were cascading from the forest trees;
they fluttered, swirled and twirled in the breeze,
all those beautiful colors to behold.
Red, burnt orange, gold that the ground receives,
all those bright lovely fire hue leaves for me;
I gather them in my hands except the ones that flee,
such perfection that I uphold.
I hold them to the sun, oh beauty unfold,
lovely, earthly scent so sweet and dreamy;
intricate textures and each veined deeply,
with delight, I spin and leap in glee.
I select the best and most colorful,
so in Winter I can discover fire wonderful.
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October 20, 2016
Poetry/Canzone/Autumn
Copyright Protected, ID 16-840-970-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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