Now is the golden browning of the year,
early dusky evenings, and the quiet.
A time of listless leaves and branches,
a settling, and a dignity of dying.
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Good descriptive poem here so masterfully penned Martin. You took us into those autumn lanes and fields and we felt the mists along with the last line of hope for spring and bluebell time again before too long. Lovely, and thank you - - - from Fay.
You have captured the essence of all things autumnal in this beautiful piece. A musical flow of words. Praise for your gifted Irish pen. As always, Sandra
Lovely...just lovely, i can almost smell the damp sweet earth, alana
Absolutely beautifully penned. It sits with the great poems by established writers. I must read more by you.