As November steadily marches on, scudding winds giving way to icy paths, two poems from Elizabeth Nallon, a writer from Bonnyrigg, remind us of the beauty of autumn…
With the gentlest breeze the autumn leaves fall.
Red, amber and brown, they swirl then they stall.
They reel and they birl,
they jig and they swirl.
Then curtsy their last curtain call.
Threads of nature
Autumn’s ever darkening ingress sharpens the air.
The woodland’s withering canopy rasps and fidgets.
Dying leaves loose their grasp, flitting silently;
falling gently, deeply flocking nature’s floor.
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