Lost September
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The dew is like a kiss so sweet and still,
the final flowers of this Fall fade fast;
my soul, heartbroken, weeps today its tears,
when dead the beauty . . . death to blooms and green;
and trees dream red and yellow in their sleep . . .
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October 21, 2019
Poetry/Blank Verse/Lost September
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1190-289-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Pick A Title, Vol 10- Blank Verse
Sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Inspiration #2 Lost September
Fourth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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