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When the Glass Rabbit Runs


Lioness of Spoons
V.I.P Member

The light mellows
to a golden age

as the breeze,
finally cool

sets ripples dancing
o'er a desiccated sea
of saffron tinted grass

it shoves impatiently
at the jagged ruins
toppled towers
of cobalt and pearl

and elicits
a raspy cackle
from weary leaves
fresh cloaked in
the cardinal's best


through a window,
left cracked to tempt,
and hopefully catch
that coveted breeze

it comes, a song,
ghostly and sweet,
the chime, a herald

of the first breath of fall
Last edited:


V.I.P Member
"The light mellows to a golden age"


"saffron tinted grass"

make me happy.

Very well done!

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