“B’lore’s Autumn Morning”

“Bangalore’s crisp autumn morn,
Gradient blotted blue, dark-some gone,
Sleepy yawn, greets chirping wings.
Stoned paths riddle trimmed cushion grass,
Yellow hedges crease fruiting mass,
Shining gloss vivifies things.”

PS : My first “Cywydd Llosgyrnog“! Thanks to David and his previous post “Fate, or: Folly” , I learned this type of poetic meter. 🙏😌