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Created on: August 07, 2008
October Journey
is a wind of festivity, maple
leaves clinging
desperately
during Autumn's ritual
countless curlicues
descending as
a flotilla
of curled-up edges.
Orange, reddish-hue
and yellow tinges tumble
from lofty spires
to historic journeys
below, a
leafy dance, in one last
trembling fling.
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Poetry: Walking in the woods
The warm air caresses my cheeks that have forgotten
the sweet touch of dark months now past.
The floor upon which I walk
Light streaming through the branches
leaves crunching underfoot
dew drops resting on the plants
glistening in the sun
by Lisa Piper
I went out in the woods,
Real deep in the pines.
I fell in the bushes
And tripped over vines.
I got bit by mosquitoes
And ticks
Walking in the woods, was I
All nature's beauty seemed to apply
Trees so great and green
Birds of color hiding unseen
Brown, splintered wood
connected by iron rails,
winding, bending, unending,
is embedded by rusted nails.
Crushed, the gravel
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