when the wuthering wind leaves the leaves parched
The popped daisies danced; like
Pulchritudinous poetry
The Susurrusation of the river, in the trail of soft oaring
In the ripples in the water,the images play
Isn't the goodness of the mind the motherlode?
Before it's gazed superficially
The wizned leaves seemed to be tittynopes of autumn
That came to say hello before it all begins
And aren't impediments the honourary disciples of triumph?
Do the withered leaves heartily convey?
The change that is about to occur in nature
Do the bawling eyes describe the mourning heart?
When the leaves accede their pigment; they do submit their youth
When the heart dwindles between bygone and unborn
A smile and sulk it is at the same time; a beautiful syzygy
It then becomes a guileless play
Where the heart mends itself with moresels of hope
Digested in the mind within
A stop to rest in the way to healing
What goes will bring back friends from nowhere
And they are undoubtedly the better companions
YOU ARE READING
random pennings
Poetrythese are my poems...I'm no professional... I use words to describe my feelings..when u read them u feel wat I feel....real and profound...from the bottom of my soul
