And see the beauty that I behold;
Summer’s love has taken its toll
As Autumn’s tale does now unfold.
Every colour, each coppery hue,
Every tint fills me with wonder;
They make me dream, think of you
Yet the little leaves are cast asunder.
From little acorn to rich ochre berry,
I pluck a morsel for you to cherish;
Yet while the colours are making merry,
Thou canst forget the leaves do perish.
We walk upon a confetti strewn path,
The remnants of the trees’ summer mirth;
Yet autumn arrives with all its wrath
And brings us falling, right back to Earth.
Hark my darling! The Robins doth sing,
A melancholy sound, to my ear;
Yet what beauty there is therein,
Just like your beating heart my dear.
A fallen tree – midst a clearing,
The sun dances on the rotting bough;
Little white lollipops appearing,
Whence they come I disavow.
Onward we go, your hand in mine,
A wing of Sycamore flutters past;
The breeze rustles a lonely pine,
The fragrance to our senses cast.
Of all the seasons, the Fall is best,
Its harvest brings forth a song;
Making sweet love in our little nest,
Our warmth imbues, amid winter’s throng!
