Golds and browns, accept your fate ~
a chill arrives, it's getting late.
Your branches gray, with dying moss ~
prepare again for season's loss.
Sleep is due with curling leaves ~
that gather 'neath the forest trees.
Creatures come to build their nests ~
for Autumn's time gives way to rest.
Sleep oh forest without a sound ~
in beauty deep of golds and browns,
Of golds and browns ~ sleep ~
Oh Dixie, this was beautiful!
ReplyDeleteSo sad that it goes so fast.
Soon we will have a blanket of white to cover the sleeping earth.
God bless~ Lisa
Ah, but after sleep there is a new beginning - how exciting is that!
ReplyDeleteBut Lisa... I love the snow too!!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your kind words,and visiting me. Blessings to you.
Mike, I so agree, and have been collecting new flowers specimens to plant in the spring.
ReplyDeleteThank you Mike.
Hey Dixie,
ReplyDeleteHow wondrous thy words doth dance. Like the leaves that gently fall. And Penny has noted the photo and gone back to her doggy dreams.
An ambient prose, Dixie. Thank you.
Gary :)
Hi Gary. Dancing words... I like that, thank you!
ReplyDelete"Sam" lives up the block. Hope Penny has some nice dreams. Ahh, a bed of leaves in the sun...zzzzzz
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