False Coloured Leaves
False coloured leaves
Like Spanish thieves
Whisked away by gentle breeze
As they rustled in the eves
Frayed but not forgotten
Even though the wood was rotten
Before the limbs were bound to break
One last glance upon the lake
Luminous spears of speckled light
Glisten in the peaceful night
Beyond my window it was dark
I could feel the beating of my heart
Icy splinters bitter winds blow,
Upon the crest of fallen snow
Tiny twigs that fell to their fate
Much to heavy a burden for them to take
Bristol fires burned, beneath the churned
Freshly brewed coffee brewing in the urn
Before the drawn was sure to rise
I found it to be, such a pleasant surprise| Poetry 1 | Poetry 2 | Poetry 3 | Poetry 4 || Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |
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Copyright © Darryn John Murphy