My Feeling Towards Autumn - Poem by Charles WOO
Red maple flickered as the crows flew to their nest.
Four seasons took their turn and autumn was the best.
Falling leaves and withering lotus told me my old date.
With anger, the gusty cold wind knocked my wicker gate.
On strategy and tactics, ‘Jiang-shang' was honoured the sage.
‘Lian-po' became famous militarily despite of his age.
Writing poems at late hours, my fatigue I did forget.
Just like fairy surfing internet in the sunset.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye