Latest poem, please comment
The Season Of Fall
I jog through the brisk morning rays.
The fog, that looms over us, stays.
The swirl of
the wind blows into the old birch.
The hurl of the force makes the branches lurch.
The whiff of fall completes the air.
The stiff scent surrounds what I wear.
The hue of the leaves, color the world.
They, too through the wind, are hopelessly twirled.
The incandescence of the sun smiles on my face.
The dense trees block my view as I quicken my pace.
I tread on the dead leaves through the morning glory.
My head is finally done with writing this story.
I could not come up with a good ending, if you could suggest a different line that could continue the poem I'd love to hear it!
Any and all comments are appreciated, thank you for reading.
~sig~
7 days without soccer makes one weak.
Critique my latest poem please?
HAHA YOU GOT A CRITIQUE. :]
Reply:Very nice
flower deliveries
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