“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. 🙏😌