Fall Decay
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Fall Decay
The days are getting so withered and old,
and leaves are falling, drifting and flying;
I gather up the red, yellow and gold,
O, the wildflowers are fading- dying.
The daylight is tarnished and the wind bleak,
soon, the fields, trees and branches will be bare;
the birds chirp, chirping and twittering seek,
and I expect each morn' snow in the air.
Yet, there are days with a deep blue expanse,
when some drowsy bees come buzzing by me;
and among my withered limp blooms they dance,
hovering, then flying away with glee.
O, there is beauty in Autumn decay;
when painted leaves whirl and waltz- a ballet.
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July 29, 2021 (repost)
Poetry/Sonnet/Fall Decay
Copyright Protected, ID 07-1376-307-29
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Brian Strand Sonnet
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2021
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