Aristotle's Artless Autumn Comments
Artless autumn leaves now fallen lifeless on the ground
have reached the end of summer's journey intricately found
as a multicolored blanket, blown by fall's frail breath;
the forest's fragile overlay has now met with death.
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Christine, Although rhyme is not one of my favorite things. I love this poem. You handled this so well. It's a very smart work. A pleasure to read you, and looking forward to reading more of you. Warm Regards, Carolynn
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7/27/2025 3:31:43 PM # 1.0.0
Well done indeed, Christine. A masterful use of rhyme, without the pretense oft associated. Moreover, I rather enjoyed it. Thank you for sharing. ams