The early morning mist and dew <br />The faintest sunlight shining through, <br />The branches of the languid trees <br />That slowly forms this autumn frieze, <br />With subtle shades as leaves now turn <br />And fiery glows of amber burn, <br />That warms the chill of breaking dawn <br />Upon this late October morn. <br /> <br />The silver birch in primrose stands <br />Its trunk is flecked and striped with bands, <br />While bracken frames this stony course <br />That winds its way through thorny gorse, <br />A carpet made of leaves and twigs <br />While berries ripe on holly sprigs, <br />Glow scarlet in the shade of night <br />And almost hidden from my sight. <br /> <br />The air is still so hushed the sound <br />As leaves are falling to the ground, <br />Like raindrops from a passing shower <br />They gather there beneath the bower, <br />A squirrel roams the woodland floor <br />While searching for some food to store, <br />Amongst the span of empty husk <br />He seldom moves from dawn till dusk. <br /> <br />When evening falls and shadows rest <br />And sunlight sinks within the west, <br />Then soon descends the cold of night <br />Beneath the stars that shine so bright, <br />A frost does form now winter nears <br />That glistens like the fallen tears, <br />Of autumn for its end is nigh <br />As if to say its last goodbye. <br /> <br />30/07/08<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-early-morning-mist-and-dew/
