The day is gracious, warm and soft,
A tender breeze that greets the morn
Ah! Last of the leaves wearing frost
Rattle, O! why shall they mourn?
Amid the memories are they lost?
Waiting yet…Waiting to be reborn.
For the winter’s left its frozen trails
Delicate, delicate, delicate…so
Collapses below the leave’s mail.
With every passing they shall know,
The imprints of the hands must fail.
Deep is the impression of spring, lo!
When did her life begin
-
When did her life begin…
….with the shy, little blonde girl in photos
captured of moments she cannot recall,
with the confused teen, who ...
2 weeks ago
I like the description very much. However, I am not sure of the structure. Pardon me. But, I always enjoy reading your lines; the imagery created is great. I suspect that's what you are intending too as you provide no images with your poems. Nice move!!! Keep writing!!!
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