Isolated Wisdom - Prismattic Ascension
As I look around, here's what I see
Leaves flying past and rolling on the street.
That gentle sound is oh so sweet.
The beauty of an autumn breeze.
The tip tip taps of rain
Colliding with the leaves
Cluttering the ground
and grasping to trees.
Also busy among the branches,
are the bushy-tailed sneaks.
Whose voyeuring loom
Knows more than he speaks.
Under the shelter of canopy's creation
Lies a mere little pack
Huddled together for their salvation
Prepared for an attack.
A world of its own, blossoms into a story told,
Here in just a few moments walk.
A web of connections, both young and old,
Too bad, no one's here to listen as I talk.