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Friday, September 24, 2004

Poem of the Moment

Golden Autumn Splendor

The branches sway, weaving patterns
Beckoning the eye to join their dance
They reach to the deep blue heavens
I sit and watch them, rapt, entranced

So full the sky, so gold the maples
So spicy sweet the cool crisp air
Sprays of green, brown, and crimson
Festive dress for an Autumn Faire

The pale golden threads of the sunlight
spun round the boughs, in crazy designs
a spider web of golden beams capture
the forest spirit,  speaks of the divine

The gold of your heart is so much purer
Than these Autumn leaves could ever be
Your graceful movement, rings much truer
than this wild forest ballet to me 

October 17, 1999

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