A Wistful Breeze
A wistful breeze blows through the trees
as summer nears its end
September beckons to the fall
Its old and brooding friend
The blue of sky, the butterfly,
birds that sing on high,
will flutter with my doleful sighs
as summer bids goodbye
The somber sound of autumn bells
with falling leaves they ring
until they cast a gloomy spell
with the cheerless winds they bring
----
8-16- 2015
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