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!
November New Moon
-
As she sat gazing
at night skies on the eve
of the November New Moon,
a voice came to her,
and it whispered in her ear:
“Shrug off the past,
all the ...
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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