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The lovely trees of autumn shine,
in fields of majestic glory;
It's heaven's way to give the world,
a pure and glowing story.

While whistling winds intrude upon,
the corners of our minds;
And the gentle breezes blow afar,
each colored leaf aligns.

As the trembling branches of the trees,
shed all their crinkled leaves;
The bounty of a sacred world,
brings nature to its knees.

The northern winds blow heavily,
with frost and chilly air;
And soon the days of winter rise,
as snowflakes dance in pairs.

Remember how the whistles sing,
a tune of changing seasons;
From God above Who tells the tale,
with faith, and hope and reason.
Go ahead and feel the breezes,
brought to us by the wind and rain;
As the rustling leaves tell their stories,
some of joy and some of pain.

They whisper nightly as dark descends,
upon our sleepy little town;
Forgive me now, they'll often ask,
not wanting to be left alone.

Tears drip softly from those trees,
as their leaves let go and fly;
To the yard in which the children play,
in crisp bundles towering high.

Wild laughter permeates the air,
as each child decides to climb;
And the rustling leaves feel solace now,
when finding their place in time.

Crackling red the Autumn glows,
a roaring fire in every tree;
Brisk waters from the rain above,
cannot dampen their energy.

For Nature gives its soul to us,
from visions that often stay;
Within our hearts for countless years,
and never drift far away.
the gift of Autumn is upon us with sights and sounds that glow, opening hearts around the town, feeding off the restlessness of Nature !
Wind whines and whines the shingle,
The crazy pierstakes groan;
A senile sea numbers each single
Slimesilvered stone.

From whining wind and colder
Grey sea I wrap him warm
And touch his trembling fineboned shoulder
And boyish arm.

Around us fear, descending
Darkness of fear above
And in my heart how deep unending
Ache of love!
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair,
I hear you singing
A merry air.

My book was closed,
I read no more,
Watching the fire dance
On the floor.

I have left my book,
I have left my room,
For I heard you singing
Through the gloom.

Singing and singing
A merry air,
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair.
Sleep now, O sleep now,
O you unquiet heart!
A voice crying "Sleep now"
Is heard in my heart.

The voice of the winter
Is heard at the door.
O sleep, for the winter
Is crying "Sleep no more."

My kiss will give peace now
And quiet to your heart -- -
Sleep on in peace now,
O you unquiet heart!
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.
All day I hear the noise of waters
Making moan,
Sad as the sea-bird is when, going
Forth alone,
He hears the winds cry to the water's
Monotone.

The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing
Where I go.
I hear the noise of many waters
Far below.
All day, all night, I hear them flowing
To and fro.
Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;
Lay aside sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how
In the grave all love shall sleep:
Love is aweary now.
She who did not come, wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?

Lovely joy left blank, perhaps you are
the center of all my labors and my loves.
If I've wept for you so much, it's because
I preferred you among so many outlined joys.
 Oct 2018 PoserPersona
Carina
Trapped in a cage with golden bars of light
Of ancient habit and direful duties;
Below the water crashed into the bight,
The whispering waves baiting with beauties.

But her shadow lurked around the coast,
Dashing her to the beach like drifting wood.
Preventing her from what she wanted the most
To reach new shores from where she stood.

She wanted to travel and sail the open sea
Beyond the shingle, seaweed and shells
Closer to the horizon where the birds flew free
Or to the arenaceous ground in diving bells.

And coming back to where she started
She found her seaside changed since she has parted.
Or did the widening horizon change her perceiving?
For returning was not the same as never leaving.
Dedicated to all those wandering souls who like to seek new horizons, who love travelling and experiencing the world with all its wonderful facets.
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