Neville

Until Spring

Until Spring

 

How I wonder

Each and every

Year  

How many

Leaves

Might shed a

Tear   

As they

Tumble and

Fall to the

Ground  

 

Each one of

Their dances

Unique  

A golden

Explosion

A seasonal

Masterpiece

Of sight

Without Sound  

 

No doubt

About it

The very

Prettiest cloud

And

Something

Surely  

To consider

Out loud

 

The briefest of

Wind blown

Murmerations  

Individual heroes

Versus flocks

Of willing sheep

Those 

That take a dive

And those who

For love do leap