Splashing across fragile veins mother nature’s tears washed away the remnants of the day. Her tender heart realising with autumn charismatic colours travelled the onslaught of spring. Soon they would litter the ground. In its carpet of illusion, life would still find a way to install hope. A whispering wind allow them a brief interlude of movement before they disappeared over the horizon.
Published by writerravenclaw
I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school. View more posts