Autumn
By Linrose
Summer’s heat now just a memory,Autumn breezes in, aglowwith red-gold hues, her gown a-flurry ~She twirls her wand and colours flow.The wind precedes her through the woods ~It sounds the time of her arrival;Her auburn tresses act as hoods ~For leaves at end of their survival.Trees and wood nymphs bow alike ~Awed by Autumn’s magic hand;Unlike winter’s bleak, white blight ~Her deep, rich colours warm the land.Winds cool the earth, once scorched by sun,While Autumn paints her promises ~Of life renewed to trees, each one,Spring buds along with irises.The woods are now ablaze with fire ~As Autumn reaches her finale,Leaves swirl around her to admire ~Her artistry o’er woods and valley. Written October 10th, 2001 © on Oct 11 2001 08:20 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Summer’s heat now just a memory,Autumn breezes in, aglowwith red-gold hues, her gown a-flurry ~She twirls her wand and colours flow.The wind precedes her through the woods ~It sounds the time of her arrival;Her auburn tresses act as hoods ~For leaves at end of their survival.Trees and wood nymphs bow alike ~Awed by Autumn’s magic hand;Unlike winter’s bleak, white blight ~Her deep, rich colours warm the land.Winds cool the earth, once scorched by sun,While Autumn paints her promises ~Of life renewed to trees, each one,Spring buds along with irises.The woods are now ablaze with fire ~As Autumn reaches her finale,Leaves swirl around her to admire ~Her artistry o’er woods and valley...."