
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gaze,
The milk flowers bloom in autumn’s haze.
Their scent drifts gently through the air,
A fragrant song, beyond compare.
Each blossom small, yet pure and white,
A quiet glow in the velvet night.
Their perfume whispers, soft and deep,
A memory the heart will keep.
The streets are wrapped in sweet embrace,
As milk flowers weave their tender grace.
A fleeting charm, a season’s kiss,
A moment filled with tranquil bliss.
Their fragrance speaks of love once known,
Of tender hearts, of seeds once sown.
A bittersweet and wistful tune,
That lingers ‘neath the autumn moon.
Oh milk flower, gentle, shy, and true,
Your fleeting bloom renews the view.
A timeless gift, a bond, a thread,
That links the living with the fled.
In every breath, your essence stays,
A quiet hymn to fleeting days.
Though seasons pass, your scent remains,
A cherished part of autumn's veins.


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