Autumn Morning

The faerie spinners’ masterpiece,

Damply decorated with pure droplets,

Glimmering under autumn skies.

While coloured leaves dance with the spirits of the wind;

Whirling, twirling, skipping, to unmapped steps.

And crisp, sweet apples drop to a mossy cushion.

 

Thorny chestnuts, prized open, reveal the treasure,

A rich brown nut, nestled in creamy silk.

Purple hands, clambering over thorns, reach for another

Sweet drop of fruit; shiny, black, with gleaming segments.

A peaceful rose softly cups the rainbow dew,

As the sun rises higher into a clean blue sky. 

 

Copyright remains with author, 1998

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This entry was posted in Poetry.

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