The Time Of Wilting. Poem by Blood Rose
The Time Of Wilting.
The leaves turn red,
The flowers wilt,
And The apples are picked.
The leaves turn orange,
Apple pies are baked,
And the pumkin patch is empty.
The leaves turn yellow,
The vines wilt,
And the corn is cut from the cob.
Autumn has arrived.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: autumn
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5/3/2024 4:55:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
