POETRY
Autumn’s Fair Delights
A poetic painting of my most cherished time of year
Shallow puddles of rainwater splash the hem of my dress; the path that I stroll upon is bestrewn with maples of coral and honey, dusted over with the icing sugar of Aurora’s frost.
Sycamore seeds pirouette in the Autumn air like ballerinas. Their enchanting chassé accompanied by the lullaby of Blue Jays and windchimes kissed into song by the breeze.
Like butterfly wings, the blushed petals of Dahlias flutter to greet me as I wander into a congregation of Oleanders.
Beneath the refuge of an ancient bridge, dew drops drip from lonely branches, a mist of felicity glides upon the river; whilst sweet-scented lily pads and bundles of moss sail under the canopy of an ashen sky.
The sunlight forsakes me in the shadow of the shrubbery — the thorned cusps of holly leaves grazing my fingertips — as I seek out colour in the gloom.
The motherly hand of sunlight finds me, doling out a carpet of golden incandescence for me to stroll upon once again.
The frantic flap of a raven’s wings applaud me from the crown of a pine tree, its needles glistening with beads of dew.
The whispers of dusk not far behind.
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