Autumn
The still lake is a sheet of glass reflecting in unbroken symmetry the silhouette of the sunburst forest above, bedecked in the colours of autumn's revelry, and crowned in the glory of the fading day.
Cradling the woods in a tender embrace, the bountiful corn fields have ripened to gold and await the thresher, their jewel laden heads swaying gracefully to mark the occasional passing of the silent breeze, with the contentment of having fulfilled their rich purpose.
The allure of the reposed evening air is infused in the mystery of the pregnant silence, satisfied in the fullness of the harvest, bearing the fruit of the summer of application.
Cradling the woods in a tender embrace, the bountiful corn fields have ripened to gold and await the thresher, their jewel laden heads swaying gracefully to mark the occasional passing of the silent breeze, with the contentment of having fulfilled their rich purpose.
The allure of the reposed evening air is infused in the mystery of the pregnant silence, satisfied in the fullness of the harvest, bearing the fruit of the summer of application.
posted by Dwight Kulkarni at 9:03 PM
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