Life was beginning again
with the changing of crisp
autumn air and the delicate
scattering of leaves falling
to the warmest of embraces;
where our hands sought each
other more frequently, found
steady with the touch of love,
where our hearts beat faster,
lighting the stars on fire, and
where love was as delicate as
the changing leaves, together
we strolled the days hand in
hand, reliving fall and in love.
We had taken a subtle walk,
watching the leaves die gently,
in the softest light of the trees,
feeling the wind kiss our backs
as we strolled on, counting the
minutes and days pass before
our eyes as summer fell to fall,
autumn blowing into the early
stages of winter, and the trees
growing bare, taking root in the
season, as we continued to walk
on, wandering and left waiting;
always waiting as time changed,
masked behind death and growth
as we all continued on, walking
and never stopping to take notice.
As the last page turns,
the leaves begin to fall,
replacing chapters and
metaphors for the crisp
air of autumn, reds and
oranges left dangling on
the branches as the story
lingers, gently lulling us
into a smooth transition,
where nights are burning
pages of our histories in
the flames, and we warm
ourselves inside memories,
counting stars and waiting
for the next story to begin.
Autumn was fading in a blur
of orange encrusted promises
as the first hint of snow was
falling on the horizon, with a
tangle of white whistling onto
the blank page leaving behind
softened shades of forgotten
words, entrusting the landscape
in starlight and glistening snow –
the ashes of autumn left fading,
by icicles as sharp as truth left
dangling over the page, with a
blanket left behind of words to
be uncovered, as crisp dances
of snow begin to fall again.
You are the subtle laughter
that fills a promise with hope;
a voyage amongst the stars in
the darkest hours of the night
with the late whistling tunes
of an autumn evening breeze.
You are the dream and desire,
parading around my thoughts
in metaphors set to sonnets –
half past lasting perfection in
rhythms of blues kissed by
last year’s jazz. You are my
love, as pure as the falling of
the first snow, coming home.
Summer had finally ended
in a blaze, and now autumn
was retreating in the glistened
promise of snow before winter;
where the falling of the clouds
overlooking heaven was a sight
of Romance in November – a
new change in the subtle days,
where the gentle tug of breezes
was an embrace to be found, as
my favorite of all kinds of love
stories. This was a new kind of
season, where the snow met a
match to burn; it was beauty in
transition, and it was all ours.
I craved the innocence
of a dream set to poetry,
where the blue ink swirls
masqueraded as sonnets
set in a tune of the trees,
billowing past lone breezes
that seemed to only cry in
the hours of free verse and
rhyme; where the rustle of
the autumn days, left me
craving the purity of past
wishes carved in the stars,
where reality had left, and
all I had were my dreams
whispering onto the page.
Without the delicate light
of the moon to guide me
into my days, I am left in
uncertainty, craving the
subtle reflection of stars,
that are like kisses left in
sonnets and in rhythms of
blues; left to fear the sun
like a second burden to my
day, knowing the hours to
be a reminder of how the
moon vanished past the
horizon, refusing to rise,
and I am left in darkness.
With the last of my wishes
burning by the stars, in tones
of washed up hues left by the
falling sun, I took a chance at
whispering your name – letting
it nestle on my lips as I tried to
hold it in my embrace one last
time, watching memories float
like lost lanterns to the skyline;
counting my final wishes rising
with the stars yet falling like ash
in time of the burning sun, as I
wait under the darkened hues of
night for my name to echo back.
Carried in the breezes past
midnight, is the light giggle
surrounding your smile as
your eyelashes are starting
to flutter in time to the rapid
successions of your heart –
rising like the moon in soft
patterns played out in blues,
with the backdrop of stars
laid out past the heavens,
you still outshine them all;
carrying your laugh into a
dance of tomorrow, built
for us, to last a lifetime.
Storylines in Verse 