Indian Summer
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The sky is a deep October bright blue,
and trees are laying down their pretty leaves;
orange, red and brown scatter whereunto,
Indian summer and fall interweaves.
And trees are laying down their pretty leaves,
the morning chill gives way to drowsy heat;
Indian summer and fall interweaves,
in the park all the birds are singing sweet.
The morning chill gives way to drowsy heat,
even decaying gardens have beauty;
in the park all the birds are singing sweet,
but soon the wind will be blowing breezy.
Even the decaying gardens have beauty,
from my garden I picked the last red rose;
but soon the wind will be blowing breezy,
soon, the snow will fall and all will be froze.
From my garden I picked the last red rose,
orange, red and brown scatter whereunto;
soon, the snow will fall and all will be froze,
the sky is a deep October bright blue.
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October 2, 2017
Pantoum/Indian Summer
Copyright Protected, ID 946458
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2017
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