Strew
Thursday 8 October 2026
poetry
Strew
The wind will strew the amber leaves
Across the quiet lane,
A tapestry of russet gold
That settles on the pane.
Children laugh and strew their dreams
Like confetti in the air,
Each whispered hope a coloured speck
That lands without a care.
Night descends, the stars are strewn
Like sugar on the dark,
A silent sprinkle of pure light
That guides the wandering heart.
