God's Scribe Poetry Selections
Autumn
The leaves dance
as they float to
the ground.
The wind carries
them gently,
laying them
down softly.
As they fly
though the air,
a ballet is
performed before
my eyes.
First, up,
then down.
How softly, how
tenderly they soar.
Then gracefully
decline, dancing towards
the many lifeless
leaves that cover
the soft, dry dirt below.
How I wish I could
dance with them!
To be so light, that
every change of
the wind, changes
my coarse.
To float, with
nothing to hold
me back.
To soar up high,
high, high
into the clouds above.
And then to fall, ever so
softly, to my resting place.
Oh, if only.
All rights reserved, © "Freudy". Copying without permission for non-personal use is forbidden.
as they float to
the ground.
The wind carries
them gently,
laying them
down softly.
As they fly
though the air,
a ballet is
performed before
my eyes.
First, up,
then down.
How softly, how
tenderly they soar.
Then gracefully
decline, dancing towards
the many lifeless
leaves that cover
the soft, dry dirt below.
How I wish I could
dance with them!
To be so light, that
every change of
the wind, changes
my coarse.
To float, with
nothing to hold
me back.
To soar up high,
high, high
into the clouds above.
And then to fall, ever so
softly, to my resting place.
Oh, if only.
All rights reserved, © "Freudy". Copying without permission for non-personal use is forbidden.
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Autumn
Autumn
