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Gentlest of Fresh Leaves
This is my one love and when it will die
I might as well drift by the alley’s wayside
Or care for young leaves which are my pride,
That only bluebirds from frosty air cry .
Soon, I’ll hear old winter’s song through dusk’s lyre
Climbing on stars, my breaths moaning aloud;
To watch day’s procession through a head bowed
When twilight dims a moon, frail like kohl’s pyre
Yet in this secular autumn I know
I have felt his pure warmth open life's heart;
This kindled fervor, only to depart…
Yet evenings bloom on a sepulcher, aglow
Mellow like fresh leaves when times past enthrall,
Gentlest of all, my love, gentlest of all.
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For Gren’s Evergreens (Golden Oldies)
# 2 Contest ----------4/30/2016
Inspiration from the song, Autumn Leaves
Petrarchan Sonnet
Copyright ©
Nette Onclaud
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