Tawny breezes of autumn enchant maple glitter,

Embellishing each leaf of platinum velvet;

Whistling its ariose aphrodisia

Where’er winces are efflorescent,

‘Till fall’s rains sweeten their florid fires,

As my blood throbs ‘mid each downpour.

Dropping into a roadside stream, russet is rife

Swirling with careless abandon;

So goes the vicissitudes of vibrance,

Like my life, that escorts their swim

‘Till I find myself with them

A jetty ride to an arid gutter.

Bereft, the divine expression of womanhood,

Whose moon-dipped temples my fingers long to ascend,

Up its downy heavens, borrowed from a swan,

Where your helpless quivers are soft patters

Travelling the agony my empty ears reach out for,

Yearning for the want in your eyes.

When I may lift the white silk guarding you;

Discovering the key of treasured flutters,

Whose elm-like slippery is the organ of ecstasy,

Maturing with each coating of distension.

But your brilliance is aloof,

Lost to some other explorer.

For gold evanesces into sepia,

Whirled away by winter’s wicked winds,

Raping the brittle trees.

Your resplendence, still cherished in my lungs;

In every scented melody, I hear you,

Tawny breeze of autumn, I pray for your overture.