My Poetry, Sonnet

Mystic Winds

Gentle winds descend from chilly plains
Pushing out the summer’s rotting mort
Cleansing in their steady, cooling trains
Building up a silent, autumn fort
Darting through the lonely, sleeping trees
Singing whispered lullabies and hymns
Dancing with the fallen, colored leaves
Speaking through the shaking blades and stems
Running o’er the constant, pressing streams
Carrying the snores of earthen sleep
Crisply clearing up the senses’ swollen slate
Joyful hopes fulfill the season’s keep
Accomplishing their magic glee
The winds return unto the Autumn Queen

Express Thyself!

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