Autumn Spice
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Written on August 25, 2024
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It’s the sound of wind, breathless, softly playing
Rustling through leaves with songs in richest essence
Collecting dreams despite quiet senescence
Gentling, lasting impressions grown through praying.
While the nights grow bitter, the trees keep swaying
Reaching for the moon in her adolescence
Lush splash of song with tones of fluorescence
‘tis the season of grace is all I’m saying
Dazzling colors, bold tones of joy unfolding
Seeking life in the hearts of those who love her,
Autumn’s secrets, so graceful, we’re beholding
It’s the twinkling of an instant we’ll say burr,
Her rousing splendors she’ll not be withholding.
Autumn is the spice that I’ll ever prefer!
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2024
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