Dedicated to Legendary_Champion
Running through the crisp Autumn leaves,
Red, orange, yellow snatches,
Being kicked up, and fluttering to the ground,
The Autumn wind tangling their hair,
They leap and grab for catches,
Of the 'lucky' falling leaves,
They flew through the forest,
Carried by laughter and joy,
As free as a butterfly, and as delicate,
Childish hands, small and gloved,
From the little girl and boy,
Scoop up the conkers from the floor,
Dens made of hollow tree trunks,
And rushing rivers cold as ice,
Piles of crisp leaves and fallen branches,
And the hibernating animals being found,
Are all the web of fun and entice,
To let the children fly free,
They stand in time, boy and girl,
Able to watch falling, fluttering leaves,
Land on the ground, finally,
How time flies by from then,
From him and I in our childhood,
The two butterflies breaking free.
YOU ARE READING
The Song of the Sun and the Moon
PuisiThe passion of the burning sun and the cool caress of the silver moon. Credit of graphics to ArtfulPoet- thank you so much for designing an amazing cover for my book! Credit of image to Dorina Costras
