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To Each Autumn I Write

How fast the days have flown by Not even stopping for a while to enjoy Time is such a leveler, everything capsuled like Bonsai Bitter or sweet, sometimes even sour The Maple trees stand testimony to the advent of Many decent and a few indecent trails Losing the dearest, few mishaps, mistrust, mistakes Many births, mirth, moments worthwhile The newly wed whispering their dreams Those smiles of newborn with hope to crawl miles Poets writing about rainbows that stay A tranquil world on the anvil Moments of joy, fast forgetting the fallen leaves Welcoming the signs of rebirth Yes, I write every Autumn, a song and an Ode A song of melancholy, an Ode to divine bliss Those fallen and up right Maples My first and last spectators and audience. © Sai Prakash

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