Sunday, July 3, 2011


Softly, gently, they floated down

Shades of red and golden brown

Dancing, prancing, upon the breeze

Forming carpets with the greatest of ease.

This way, that way, over there

Till nowhere is a space to spare

Crunching, rustling beneath my feet

Piling upon the garden seat.

Crisp, fresh breezes touched my cheek

As if warmer places they did seek.

Winter can't be far away

When autumn leaves come down to play!

(c) Crissouli 2007

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