As autumn slipped a breath of frost on us, |
Some withered leaves tumbled free from the trees,
A bold old crow created quite a fuss,
When brisk winds brought our scarecrow to his knees.
He huddled broken on the ground, alone,
his button eyes were sad unblinking pleas.
What did I do wrong? How can I atone?
Poor tatterdemalion, ill at ease.
A neighbour near, surveys his swimming pool,
Though all his instincts tell him to oppose,
the nearby hose, the brush: he's no fool,
The cooler days dictate it's time to close,
This scene is bathed in warm September light,
Sun speckled images within my sight
The WORD PAINTING Challenge with Debera (Debera)
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