Autumn
Autumn.
Wrapping a black cardigan paired with her favorite silken slip-top,
The pockets filled with creased library and café receipts.
Black earl grey tea and warm porcelain coffee cups left,
On the window-sill as the rain falls softly outside.
A classical record plays in the background,
Crackling with the grains of inescapable time.
October's golden arching rays falling gently,
A cold breeze slips under her tweed and wool.
As she notices new secret engraving on the stone walls,
The feeling of new notebooks in her hand, leather bound.
With empty white pages and her old fountain pen,
Rolling along the accidentally elegant wooden desk.
Her shoulders blades slightly ache under the weight
Of all the rare and quaint books she has brought home,
Perfumed with the ancient earthy musk of the
Hidden library she discovered for the first time
Autumn flurry whispers as if it is a beautiful story
The leaves swirling past as she sits on a bench
Filling her curious mind with secret languages
And the sonnets of her most treasured poet.
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Happy autumn! How is everyone? Take care of yourself and those around you. Take out a minute from your busy schedule and spend time with your loved ones, ask them how they are doing and spread love.
QOTD - Comment your favorite musical artist/band and song below!
Wrapping a black cardigan paired with her favorite silken slip-top, The pockets filled with creased library and café receipts. Black earl grey tea and warm porcelain coffee cups left, On the window-sill as the rain falls softly outside. A classical record plays in the background, Crackling with the grains of inescapable time. October's golden arching rays falling gently, A cold breeze slips under her tweed and wool. As she notices new secret engraving on the stone walls, The feeling of new notebooks in her hand, leather bound. With empty white pages and her old fountain pen, Rolling along the accidentally elegant wooden desk. Her shoulders blades slightly ache under the weight Of all the rare and quaint books she has brought home, Perfumed with the ancient earthy musk of the Hidden library she discovered for the first time Autumn flurry whispers as if it is a beautiful story The leaves swirling past as she sits on a bench Filling her curious mind with secret languages And the sonnets of her most treasured poet.
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