Sun with his artistic touch,
streaks skies of blue with rosy blush,
trimming Oak and Maple too,
crimson reds with yellow hue.
Birch and Hemlock, purple and gold,
apples, pumpkins bright and bold,
burns by day and cools by night,
cloaking trees in fiery might.
Wispy winds and tumbling leaves,
cypress scents within the breeze,
starry eves and harvest moon,
sets the stage for crickets' tune.
As spiders spin their tapestry
and crickets sing in symphony,
their final song of destiny,
it's clear for all the world to see,
Autumn's vibrant majesty
YOU ARE READING
Musical Symphony Of My Unsaid Words✅
PuisiMusical Symphony of my Unsaid Words Cover Credits: @Shreejita23 Dedication: My Ikigai(guess who??) Everyone: What is Poetry? My Answer: Reads the following verses A poem must be something that can me pleasurably read, It can even be a poem about so...
