Down the lightly littered path,
on lacy leaves I trod,
thru sunshine dappled pools of shade;
I’m nearer here to God.
Amber drifts across the green,
rose across the gold,
red mingles in the dance with glee,
as umber breaks the branches hold.
It is a woodland fantasy,
my heaven here on earth;
as autumns joyous dying breath,
gives way to winters birth.
Patricia Gibson-Little





) Touching. I am speechless (and awful with critiques) This was well done. 
1 old applause
