Lemons
Through the clear glass I take a peek,
By the back yard lone lemon tree;
Mid-autumn grass in sunshine streak,
A dreamy bard speeds touch softly.
Yellow and green the lemons grow,
A brief fruit bloom as autumn runs;
Brisk joy now seen in harvest slow,
Pluck a small boom to taste sour pun.
The days fly by in brisk odd gaze,
Our time spent here oozes along;
Our simple sighs tell of plain maze,
These tranquil spheres make happy strong.
Leon Enriquez
19 June 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2018
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