Fall Is
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"...all loved things that vanish or that die;
Return to us in some sweet By and By ! (Anonymous)
When leaves grow rainbow colors all things take on a new hue;
and when the wild winds waltz and dance in the forests and my
garden,
and the grass and petals are wet with rain,
with mornings of gauzy dew and a sky sadly pensive,
when bees still buzz seeking some growing sweet thing,
and up above birds are southward bound. . . it is Fall!
I love the crimson leaves the best and in books I press,
so that on a freezing winter day when I open a book they fall,
and all the trees now blush a scarlet red flame of sun.
Fall, is God folding his hands as he pauses in his dream, of
his next summer of crystal mazes beautiful from all this
decay,
oh, quick trees put on your coats and flowers hide away.
"... all will throb again; and then the ... bee,
upon the ear will drone with drowsy glee." (Anonymous)
__________________________
September 12, 2019
Poetry/Narrative/Fall Is
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1180-466-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Fall into Fall
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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