Falling
With warm winds
that bring each autumn,
summer’s last breath
falls across
the fields,
October lies,
fallow,
beneath the stars
as gently,
slowly,
the season turns
and bids
farewell,
with winter’s call
to yield.
For above
and beyond
the empty
hands,
the crowning grace
of trees,
a pale moon
full, across the hidden
the skies,
pulls the shadows
behind the last
of daylight,
turning life
to greys
and the changing
colours,
of forgotten
summer leaves
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
Falling
With warm winds
that bring each autumn,
summer’s last breath
falls across
the fields,
October lies,
fallow,
beneath the stars
as gently,
slowly,
the season turns
and bids
farewell,
with winter’s call
to yield.
For above
and beyond
the empty
hands,
the crowning grace
of trees,
a pale moon
full, across the hidden
the skies,
pulls the shadows
behind the last
of daylight,
turning life
to greys
and the changing
colours,
of forgotten
summer leaves
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com