Oh soft, the dying autumn day
I thought, as rushed the earnest wind
reminding me of songs that gushed
from the heart.
A thousand times when scarlet leaves
drop, I fall and gaze upon the clear
blue sky, utter your name and let out
a deep-drawn sigh.
And I ask myself there is so much
and yet what more can there possibly be
left to say, you’re the sun as ever shining
and sometimes twilight grey.
I watch as further down a blue wren
cleaves its way.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Posted for Tuesday Platform @ Real Toads