The autumn flowers bloom,
whispering softly to me,
Their radiant petals,
vibrant as a painter's dream
drawn upon canvas.
I feel their beckoning
from this golden study,
in a dance of fervent grace.
Let winter come,
and do not mourn yesterday's light;
they say spring is born of winter,
emerging after snow
and biting winds.
We will blossom once more
in the garden of our dreams,
manifesting our vibrant hues,
fragrance, and intricate designs.
Spring shall return here,
tomorrow, they assure me.
MyKoul
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