Flames flicker, sparks sputter―
There's nothing better than the former,
Orange tides dance and flutter,
Fall air has never been warmer.
I pull my knitted blanket tighter,
Enveloped in red plaid,
The dusk is so much brighter,
When I've been warm clad.
Steaming my face in chai tea,
I open my book to read,
Nibbling on a spiced cookie,
Imagination takes the lead.
YOU ARE READING
Fallen Crests, Rising Suns
PoesieWhenever you're blue, You know what to do, Read a poem through, Or maybe two. A collection of comments on the good times and the bad - in poem form. Even if you can only see the fallen crests of life right now, remember, there's a rising sun waiting...
