walk along autumn trails
steps clouded in light fog
leaves falling like snow
barely brushing upon the shoulders.
the crisp cool breeze
not too hot, not too cold
just right, said goldilocks.
a quiet place to contemplate
of whatever swims in the mind.
little critters and creatures
twittering and fluttering
a musical symphony accompaniment
to the rusting of shivering trees.
an earth trodden path
walked upon many, many times
seeing many, many individuals
each with their own story.
and now it is our turn
what mark will we leave?
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♥ Spontaneity;
Louis Pauzé: "We're all going to die. Write that down, miss. We don't have the luxury of a thousand years on this earth. Only sixty, or maybe eighty little years if we're lucky. And these years pass in a flash. Why not offer flowers to your spouse every night? Why deprive yourself of the happiness of making your house a home? Why resist your impulse? Daily life is the most beautiful voyage..."
♥ Likes;
♥ Sanctuary;
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