Some certainly envision
the splay of oranges, golds,
crimsons and whatever else
nature holds for our viewing.
Autumn is brewing.
Making her entrance,
with a warm nuzzle;
a comfortable caress.
Hushed words expressing
what a heart can feel.
Heard in the rustle of leaves.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

dVerse Poets Pub – Quadrille #15: Leaves


32 thoughts on “LEAVES

  1. Man.. Walt.. i couldn’t
    help it.. i stopped
    at those social
    reforming eYes
    of Rod Serling
    ZoNe i go..
    for me at lEASt..
    the best poEtry
    breathes Leaves
    Serling Silver Strange..
    every word he said was
    poEtry to me.. free verse of
    course.. write oN course..
    deep deep..
    from within..:)

  2. I read this as my little papillion gives me a warm nuzzle, almost knocking the laptop off my lap, and how perfect–how the little nuzzle can turn brutal in time. I agree with Barry, there is much serenity in this.

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