Breezes blow gently,
soothing the land of heat's rage.
Times of feasting are upon us,
enjoying the fruit of our labors.
No longer the top of the year, but the bottom,
basking in the beauty of autumn.
© 2012 The Refined Poet. All rights reserved.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
Breezes blow gently,
soothing the land of heat's rage.
Times of feasting are upon us,
enjoying the fruit of our labors.
No longer the top of the year, but the bottom,
basking in the beauty of autumn.
© 2012 The Refined Poet. All rights reserved.
