Saturday, 7 December 2019

Almost gone forever

Golden Leaves fall in the breeze from a ruthless rupturing storm, the oldest trees are holding still with vigour, strength and brawn.

 Forests here remember an age they spoke with a thunderous call, to those now gone before mans birth at the beginning of Earths first Dawn. 

 winter approaches cruel and fast, a grand old oak stands tall, wondering when the year will end, he shakes with cold and yawns

Cross over to reality

Closing eyes for the last time, in to the unknown the hope to see the light to carry us home a last feeling of a loved ones tear on thy face...