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Spun-gold And Crimson
 
When all of summer's blossoms
Wither and turn to rust,
And my lovely fragrant roses
Have slowly lost their blush,

I venture down spun-gold paths
When Autumn begins to paint.
Here and there, white-washed cottages.
Nestle, picturesque and quaint.

The treetops tinged with crimson
Reach up to kiss the blue canopy.
Where cotton-candy clouds billow.
And summer birds wing free...

Word painting


By Mariannajo

© 2019 Mariannajo (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The WORD PAINTING Challenge with poetalthomas(Al) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The WORD PAINTING Challenge with poetalthomas(Al) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The WORD PAINTING Challenge with poetalthomas(Al) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The WORD PAINTING Challenge with poetalthomas(Al) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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