Old roses

Autumn is coming,

the roses are fading.

Blue sky has mackerel clouds.

Sea breezes are cooler

laden with moisture.

Soon it will be

‘the season of mist’s

and mellow fruitfulness’

that some forgotten poet

(forgotten by me)

once wrote about.

Beauty and the Beast

watch the petals fade and fall….

Will they catch them

before it’s too late?

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