Literature endeavours: 30-th November Blues

As notes are dropping softly to the rhythm

Of wind and leaves that dance and spin,

The Autumn Scherzo teasing Winter

With “buts” and “ifs”, with “outs” and “ins”

Plays on and on and seems to vanish

In scrutiny of passing days.

We stick to home and seek to garnish

Grey indolence with daily haste.

 

And if there were no “buts”

And if there were no “ifs”

We might have as well danced

Just as the autumn leaves…

 

And if hoarse saxophone’d omitted

To murmur greetings and good-buys,

Its valediction could have skipped it

As over-courtesy and lies.

Damp gloom’s inviting to reflection

Over already said and done,

It offers meanwhile a protection

And shelter made of “it’s all gone”.

 

And if there were no “buts”

And if there were no “ifs”

We might have as well danced

Just as the autumn leaves…

 

We tend to look for answers somewhere out,

We tend to dig up questions from within.

We wouldn’t mind to say outloud

What’s better to be kept serene.

If Autumn teaches us a lesson,

What shall be outcome of it?

Or shall it bring some income, whether

Or not we would be gratified by it?

 

And if there were no “outs”

And if there were no “ins”

We could be just as honest

As rigid winter chill

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