The crisp of autumn’s sigh
brushes my hair into my eyes
With a giggle that muffles
behind my closed lips
I am kissed with a
nostalgic bliss
Beauties of golds, reds, and yellows
orange and faded greens of trees
A crunch follows me with every footstep
Upon fallen leaves
I am lulled into a wakening dream
a fairy tale I love so well
Made up with every single sight
a sight that leaves me breathless and light
So innocent, how children do
living within their childhood hue
I grasp for that inner being,
that little girl that never stopped dreaming
and its so wonderful, that naivete
to stop and not worry of how life is supposed to be
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 6:37 PM UTC
The crisp of autumn’s sigh
brushes my hair into my eyes
With a giggle that muffles
behind my closed lips
I am kissed with a
nostalgic bliss
Beauties of golds, reds, and yellows
orange and faded greens of trees
A crunch follows me with every footstep
Upon fallen leaves
I am lulled into a wakening dream
a fairy tale I love so well
Made up with every single sight
a sight that leaves me breathless and light
So innocent, how children do
living within their childhood hue
I grasp for that inner being,
that little girl that never stopped dreaming
and its so wonderful, that naivete
to stop and not worry of how life is supposed to be