The meadows are turning
gold. The river is, ever so blue.
Colors, of the autumn leaves
so bold. And my heart is
...
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A wonderful poem that brings out the best in autumn. Great imagery.
Autumn, the dainty precursor to the gloom of winter.. And that glittering gaudy fabs that she adorns herself with, is not gold.. just imitation.Autumns itself is an imitation…
Liked the last line. Beauty of nature can affect our emotion.