Feather.....

Idling in a autumn noon,
I listen to a little bird croon,
The eyes are open,
Watching in despair the old oak, 

still shedding its leaves.

As i await the spring,
The wind whiffs by,
Bringing a white feather,
That just flies by,
She touches and caressess,
Making me delight,
Intrigued by her,
I try catch her,

I get up from my comforts 

And run in despair,

Again & again & again,

I feel i caught her

Only to realise,

I just touched her.

Eluding me she does fly high.

And then i realise,

An autumn breeze

doesnt bring the spring

As i wait for the autumn just to pass by

Sitting here idle, watching the old oak.

Still shedding its leaves.....