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Certificate of Excellence for my poem,  Symphony of Fall

Thank you for the honor and your hard work.

Symphony of Fall

As the leaves fall singing a last
Hoora to sunny days, warm breezes,
Replaced with a plethora of colors that freezes
On the ground in an array of colors that blast

The verdant greens into yellowish
Greens, oranges,  and burnished reds
That crinkle, crackle beneath our feet as heads
Turn to watch the scene divided by roads of hardship

Where the greens have faded
While the other paints a palette of reds
That burn beauty Within as it delves and heads
Into the sunset with its divided colors shaded

By God’s paintbrush that never
Disappoints those who appreciate
The divinity in the balance, never late,
Always just as it equalizes reality of the creator.

©️Malak kalmoni chehab ©️


My poetry book,  Perfectly Flawed poetry for change,  is available on all eplatforms including Amazon.  It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.

https://www.amazon.ca/Perfectly-Flawed-poetry-Malak-Kalmoni/dp/1525582518

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Autumn, fall

What is your favorite season of year? Why?

It’s the season when leaves fall and the changing colors in the scenery is breathtaking. The reds, oranges, yellows, browns, and greens are such a wondrous eye opener for the time when things fall, they then take the time to slumber, rejuvenate, and soak up nutrients of the fall. Never fear, after each fall, there’s a renewal that’s even more astounding in its diversity that calls itself mother nature.

Love its moods, strengths,and giving nature that gives us clean air, beauty, and a healthy respect for mother’s power over us.

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Leaden Heart

With fall comes a boisterous ball

Filled with wild colors, flaming reds that stall

Time and create a feeling that’s heavy in the head.

Worries abound: pandemic, school, health,..

Where to start or stop with the heaviness

That steals your breath?

Money, money, money, materialize and grow in the yard.

Grow into a thick trunked tree and seed me your harvest.

Don’t die out in winter and stop your perpetual

Rejuvenation of yourself, my family, and mine.

Without your harvest my heavy head turns to lead,

My heart turns to steely stone,

And my motivation dies a silent screaming death.