Autumn: Tragic Fall

I THINK “JEWS” IN THE THIRD LINE, REFERS TO “JUICE” IN THE MIDST OF A MASTERPIECE, SOMETHINGS CAN’T BE IGNORED! SORRY MAN!

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Sprang open Spring a box of rainbow rains,
And Summer rains led to your gold grains;
Jews oozes from your yellow, mellow grapes,
You play a kingly show with curvy shapes.

Morning mist floats, dancing through trees;
Fragrance of fruits sails, prancing in breeze;
Bees buzz and birds hum, granting us bliss,
And night flurry flows hissing me with a kiss.

Fall, after a great rise, comes a worst fall,
And shows your fall my mirror on the wall;
Green turns into gold and now into grey;
I hear a grown-up lamb’s cry from the brae.

Copyright © September 14, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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