Poetry by Markus Hamence – March 2024

In the heart of the fall, where the cool breezes call,
Lies a garden so grand, with its own kind of spell.
Its beauty unfurls, in a whirlwind of colors,
A tapestry woven with nature’s own hands.

Beneath the great oaks, where the soft sunlight soaks,
The leaves whisper secrets in rustling tones.
They dance in the breeze, with such effortless ease,
In shades of burnt orange, gold, and deep moans.

Each leaf tells a story, of summer’s lost glory,
And of autumn’s arrival with its cool, crisp embrace.
They twirl and they spin, on the wind they ride in,
A ballet of leaves, in their final grace.