04 Apr

The trees stood sentinel

Around the field

Golden and heavy

And rich with yield

The wind whispered something

To the farthest  row

A flurry of excitement

The others show

Across the blazing Western sky

Red carpets unfold

Night in her regal splendour

Awaits on dusk’s threshold

Why will my heart exult and grieve

At all this glory, revealed to me

Is it the beauty that affects me more

Or this moment’s brevity?

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Posted by on April 4, 2011 in Poetry


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