A row of trees.
In the colour of Autumn.
The leaves will fall.
But for now a picture perfect.
The quietness grows.
Cold nips the air.
The Autumn canvas silent.
Yet, their song heard.
To paint Autumn.
A sparkle of light falls.
Leaves glitter with gold.
Trees in their finest.
Autumn will pass.
Branches will be bare.
Trees will fall asleep.
But for now sing of Autumn.
By C.E. Pereira
(18-10-2018)
Advertisements
