November is a lonely waif
With wistful wide-eyed ways,
Subdued by the flamboyance of
The bright October days.
And feeling very small before
December's sparkling glance.
Never mind, November, twirl
Your tattered skirts and dance,
Dance a bittersweet ballet
With the leaves that fly away!
1 comment:
Happy November to you too my dear.
Hugs, Lura
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