Ode to Autumn
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Written on December 29, 2024
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swaying gently, with the wind, her mournful dance
leaves unconvinced of autumn’s breathless fingers
ruffled as shy feathers who tremble by chance
risking impulse who silence says still lingers
autumn tells news of crackling paths so perfect
paved with golds, oranges and reds to collect
puzzling dreams pile up in the spirit who sees
songs of grace, fall’s aching praise on dew drenched lawns
melodies rich with hope, betrothed to the trees
who wander across peaks, peace on quiet dawns
jolt of what it means to believe in autumn
calm painting silence like a foggy bottom
wars were fought, once upon a time, on her soil
she breathed in the aching sent of bloody souls
while the sunlight caught hearts with glittery foil
autumn whispered her right that always consoles
far and wide, I see the splendor of her voice
even though I love her, I haven’t any choice
she has gone to such trouble to seek me out
leaving my heart immersed in her misty quest
I’ll always love this season, without a doubt
she is the one who assures me I am blessed
without her quiet ways, her chorus of praise
I wouldn’t know the beauty that can still amaze
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2024
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