~~~~~~~~~~
Unblemished sand of a far away land

Unearthing bubbles of weary clams

Sky grows tired as Flame burns low

The simple serenity of the afterglow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happiness
Of the nightingales
Beauty
From the flowers

In my garden
There is a new forest
Of African violets

At dawn
In the garden
A flower laughed
And said
No one has such a short lifespan
Like me

You are wasting your life
Into loneliness
Come
Be a friend
With a rose
In the garden

Under the high tide
Of raindrops
And dewdrops
In the darkness
Of the forest
A twig
To the light
Is crying

hints of auburn drift creating a soft cadence against the autumn wind
almost heard in lieu 'tis felt somehow awakening souls buried long ago
giving birth to falling crimson leaves tinged with maroon and gold
abandoned dusty roads transform under enchanting spells cast by fall

burnt orange pumpkins standing solitary on wooden porches threaten to reveal
hidden secrets held by dusk’s luscious cinnamon seasoned air
once fulgent sunflowers begin to slumber softly beneath the harvest moon
whilst autumn’s trance brushes all it touches with honey colored hues

i stand pensive as an amber leaf gently twirling falls to the ground
bewitched by thine supernatural powers; thine gifted artist’s hand
who with one stroke turns to butter amber all that once was forest green
and imbues my soul with thine exalted essence forever ripening

©2016janetaylor