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Mellow Autumn
Autumns rich mellow flavoured air
Unmasked, the trees are now bare.
Seldom do we hear the birds sing
When the Autumn leaves are falling.
Smoke trails from the burning leaves
Carried on the light cool breeze.
The scent of spiced apple days
In the suns golden haze.
The Pine towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passres by.
Smell the crisp refreshing air
Wind is blowing everywhere.
The leaves they scatter without sound
Gently cascading to the ground.
© Hazel
poem
by
Hazel Connelly
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