Constance's Beautiful Rubaiyat Contest ~ 1/19/26
"I hope I will be as accepting as an Autumn leaf that looks up at the sky when it's time to die... graciously thanking God for the gift of my life." ~ by poet Autumn's leaves begin taking flight I feel chagrinned, without delight Are they whispering and sighing? Purged in death~ their seasonal plight Crimson faded; sadly dying There's no whimpering or crying Not a word uttered, nor tears spilled With Nature, they are complying I wonder... if they were free willed would they prefer to be instilled with more life if they had the votes? Covered in snow, would they be chilled? Perhaps, they'd choose as antidotes, voices escaping from their throats. Would they survive the coldest days wearing snowflakes for Winter coats?
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