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"bescarfed" poems
The summer leaves As autumn leaves Begin their bronzing change, And the midday sun Has now begun To exit this once idyllic stage. The quiet mornings Crowded only with buntings Become louder and more coarse, As bescarfed children who were once at play Commence their scholarly chores. And so the memories Gained during warm days Fade into a sepia hue, But what remains In the shortening days Is that darling, I love you.
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
The-Man-in-the-Wind
Summer to Autumn
The summer leaves As autumn leaves Begin their bronzing change, And the midday sun Has now begun To exit this once idyllic stage. The quiet mornings Crowded only with buntings Become louder and more coarse, As bescarfed children who were once at play Commence their scholarly chores. And so the memories Gained during warm days Fade into a sepia hue, But what remains In the shortening days Is that darling, I love you.
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