Someone came knocking At the small front door Of my little cottage 'HOPE'. Coming down the stairway Autumn keep running on my mind Perhaps the early arrival of autumn.
Opening the door made from oak, A poor child standing outside Proffered a cake with figs and berries. I asked for his name. With a bright smile with chapped lips Plunging hands into pocket, he said 'Bruno'.
His dark, rich in brown hair matches the season Smell of dampness filled our nostrils Seemingly nine years of age looking around High blue hue clouds suffuse the skies Isolated maple leaves away from sight Left no scars on the surface soil.
'Where is your companion ?' I asked searching of. 'I am lonely, an orphan! I have a right to be upset.' he whispered. Autumn foliage covered the lanes of Lithuania I bought all the cakes and gave him one Now better ask him the price of smile!