Autumn Apologizes

Every ending promises a return–Nature’s cycle.

πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚

Forgive me for the wind that strips you bare;

I am sorry for the cold and near-frost’s glare;

For momentous gusts that cause your leaves to fall;

For the joy of kindling your red flare.

πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚

I confess, I cannot stay, I must take what once bloomed;

Write soulful notes on fallen leaves, to a sad, lost tune;

I never meant to curb your laugh, just put it to sleep

Never in my hands to take, or in my arms to keep.

πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚

My Earth, dear, in my hands I take what does endure

To return to you in time, for that, you must be sure;

Now lanterns glow and baskets fill below the light of dusk

For such signs of life renewed, your faith in life, a must.

πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚

But now you know, that life goes round, back where it all begins;

That I don’t take, I do return, in pure kind, and not at whim

Your rich soil, it does recall, every sadness sown

But i return, in joyous form, all your trees now grown.

πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚πŸ‚πŸŒΎπŸπŸŒ•πŸƒπŸŒ±πŸπŸŒΎπŸ‚

I leave for you, my contrite appeal, and a promise to return

A final leaf, small but green, proof that things will turn

I say goodbye, with humbled heart, and quiet, calm repose;

Then white you’ll don, and then take off, and wear the green that flows.

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