This Withered Threshold
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Oh-
feet of mine
that walk the meadows vast and green
where azure skies and clouds unfold
and a stream comes babbling on a long climb
and wind like violins whisper cold
as leaves twirl red, orange and gold
and in the swaying trees birds sing sublime
melodies serene
Oh-
this withered threshold
where time is lingering in a season in-between
where bees drink from a faded marigold
and there are so many lovely scenes to behold
Oh-
I turn weary footsteps to a shaded place
to find a hued space
quiet
______________________
September 07, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/this withered threshold
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1485-898-07
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, A Brian Strand Premiere Choice
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 09/09/2022
Fourth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2022
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