position cusp farm luminescent photo illicit languidly
Here is my poem.
Moment in Time
In the distance it stands.
Swaying languidly in the wind.
A position of stature: royalty among plants.
Standing firm and tall. Demanding respect.
Outstretched branches, welcomes all.
Time grows near.
They congregate, year after year,
To experience its illicit beauty,
During a brief moment in time.
They snap the perfect photo;
Create a realistic sketch. Then wait.
A hush falls on the farm.
No one speaks. No one breathes.
It is time.
The rays, first, sprinkle its leaves, then shower.
Its cusps become a crown of blood.
Flaming red, luminescent foliage,
Flickers across its peak.
Gazers revel in its transformation.
Absorbing its glow; ingesting its splendor.
The sun sets. The light fades.
Time goes on.
Its Great!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Alexander!
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