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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455034" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Autumn breeze, wanders purposeful</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455034" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The autumn breeze, wanders purposeful.<br> Crispy waves both warmish and cold: <br> Crisscross the lawn, sometimes wrathful, <br> Other times gently consoled.<br> <br>Like the lamb not quite ready to walk<br> Skittish, at times ever so daring..., <br> Leaping and rolling, like a windsock: <br> Out of control; or just, bleating. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455034" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Its then we see, the hurrying ladybirds<br> On the windowpane; trying, to get in.<br> It's then no-more we hear them lovebirds<br> Sing, evergreen in yew boughs akin.<br> <br>As surely as winter steals the honey bee<br> Of her final sting, as surely as the mushroom<br> Packs-up his infamous, mildewed, fairy-<br> Ring, I'll endeavour to open the tomb, <br> Wherein; the rose-pink Nerines perfume.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Mark+Heathcote">Mark Heathcote</a></strong></div>

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