Time's flying... Forest's dressed to the last ball.
The evening's veiled the scene with whitish fog.
The shadow lake is full of magic glow.
The inner glow's emitting despite cold.
The crescent moon forges shoes for the black night.
They sparkle with silver light of stars' thin dust.
The sky has knit the dress from coal yarn:
the long plush dress for the cold pretty fray.
The night is dressing, looking in the lake
through the thick fog, and, smiling, takes bright sparkles
from the deep water. They transform in hands
into two earrings like two waterfalls.
The silver shoes are sparkling on the bank.
The night rises up the hem and put them on.
The crescent moon has turn on lots of candles.
Everything's ready for the autumn ball.
by Thea Ariss
25.09.2025
The autumn ball
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125092504831
Свидетельство о публикации №125092504831
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