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Lass of Autumn

Quiet sound,
Of a lass,
As she walked,
Down,
Autumn's frequent path.

Carrying,
The horn of plenty,
Full of fruits,
And vegetables,
In her delicate hands.

Flowers adorned,
Her auburn hair,
Leaves of Autumn,
Fell from her dress,
She wears.

Squirrels,
Of red and black,
Birds in flight,
Guided the Lass,
Down this path of Fall's delight.

Every household,
Wherever they maybe,
The Lass of Autumn,
Placed fruits and vegetables,
On every rock, land, and tree.

The perfumed,
Smell of Autumn,
As she strolled by,
This Lass called Autumn,
Quietly sighs.

Making the way,
For Winter's bliss,
This Lass called Autumn,
Gives one last,
Wish.

To come back,
Next year,
After her brothers
And sister,
Have all disappeared.

As she starts,
To disappear,
This Lass called Autumn,
Letting her brother Winter,
In for another year.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
[This option has been removed]
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

The imagery is vivid and characterizing fall as a time of richness is a refreshing change from seeing it as a harbinger of death. Even winter (my favorite season!) is characterized positively! The language is descriptive and natural and accessible. I think you might find someone of similar mind in Scribbler. I would suggest combining the lines for a smoother read. With the lines so short, I feel like I am having a halting, jerky sort of walk. Welcome to the site.

Tell ya what, I'll delete the fucker and bugger off.

subject of many of my poems did you not yet read
Lass called Autumn, she is beautiful

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