Tia Attwood
Your poem is much longer!
Make it 25 lines long, please (and no more than 70 chs. per line -spaces included).
_____________________________________________________________________
Autumn's stage show
The shiny tinsel draped along the trees:
Each tarnished scarlet, ochre, purple glow--
How sweet the symphony of potpurri,
Composing melodies of autumn's flow.
The tinsel's chimes now play its subtle song,
Percussions softly play through wind of time;
The limbs bellet with tinsel's throng,
The orchestrated music so sublime.
The crinkle-crunch of autumn's crispy flakes,
Cascading softly down from limbs of May,
Beneath the vibrant sun the leaves do bake,
In sunburnt coloured hues each day.
The feel of brittle leaves that's dry and crisp;
Within the padded bowl-shaped opened hand--
The leaves begin to swirl in freedom's wisp,
Then gracefully they fall upon the sand.
There subtle scent infusses into air,
It's rosy petalled skirt so soft in bloom.
The autumn's beauty captures and ensnares;
So smooth the juicy cherries, i consumme.
The crazy numbat scurries through the leaves,
I hear the pitter-patter of its feet,
Beneath the cherry-tree with draping eaves,
In hope to find some termites it could eat.
Each colour conjours joy into my soul,
Emotions paint i crimson, green and gold,
Desires of burnning passion make me whole--
My soirit, one of freedom, to behold.
My love for Autumn season, can't deny,
The southern light's reflective beauty-glow;
The season often paints the evenning sky
And sets the stage of Autumn's season show.
Tia Attwood
Our freedom's paid for with the price of blood.
In war our soldiers fight for what they love
While running through vast thickets and through crud
With hope to find the olive tree with dove.
For yesterday they walked familiar paths
In comfort of their family and friends;
Appreciating times when they had baths,
Today entrenched they hope the war shall end.
While leaving those they love and know behind,
The grey now paints the vast uncertain sky;
As memories still flood their hearts and minds,
Each day they pray to God with hope they sigh.
Yet, fain, our soldiers fought for freedom, bear
the scars of war through stars and stripes they wear.