From stardust,Like twinkling tears
On leaves of gold,
The words are hiding
Under small butterfly wings,
And then trail away,
Beneath the solar winds..
The dream has gone
At dawn,
Undreamed.
The air was filled with its fragrance
Of bittersweet memories,
Flying away,
As morning was raising
Autumn perfumes,
Nestled inside shy flowers,
On teardrops of dew,
Under the crystal sky
Of my lonely October.
© Copyright 2001 - 2011 Cristina Miller
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