The early morning dew parades upon the autumn leaves,
Glistening crystal rain showers along the glossy road,
Little children playing in and out along the road,
Through clouds of cold breath,
The shooting trees enclose the farm gate,
Turned dark by the shrivelling spirals of clouds.
Flowing feathers of thrushes fleeing from the silver clad people,
The shining moonlight shingles through the dark grey skies,
Skies filled with withered branches and lincoln hills,
This is the magic of the autumns entrance.

R. Tikaram 1 N

A long distant memory,
     Dragged back from the endless tunnel of time.
A vivid recollection,
     Eternally etched deep in the mind.

An unforgetable face,
     Strained into the depths of a memory
And with it springs,
      Long forgotten places from the past.

Memories renewed.
       Of happy times spent together,
And yet,
      Sadness grows interwined.

P. Bush 5