Autumn Breeze, Wanders Purposeful - Poem by Mark Heathcote
The autumn breeze, wanders, purposeful.
Crispy waves both warmish and cold:
Crisscross the lawn, sometimes wrathful,
Other times gently consoled.
Like the lamb not quite ready to walk
Skittish, at times ever so daring...
Leaping and rolling, like a windsock:
Out of control; or just, bleating.
It's then we see, the hurrying ladybirds
On the windowpane; trying, to get in.
It's then no more we hear them lovebirds
Sing, evergreen in yew boughs akin.
As surely as winter steals the honey bee
Of her final sting, as surely as the mushroom
Packs up his infamous, mildewed, fairy-
Ring, I'll endeavour to open the tomb,
Wherein; the rose-pink Nerines perfume
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