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Love’s love spell

Barred clouds of red glows the sky
Night is premature and thins the light with a resonating cry
Spinning slowly around, regulated by Time as a Conductor
She humbly rides in reverence on the Swinger
Brewing below a pearl of brilliance marked as a Vulture 

A vintage season when white is not worn after Labor Day;
Trees shed; and snow purifies natures sins away. 
She orchestras in the cold and brings fog to the meadow 
Lastly, she demands the forest fever to go
Her curse; as above will be what's bewitched below

Flip of her hand winnow winds whip the ripen vine
And twitter the leaves in acrobatic line
She harvests the heart under the full moon
The twigs snap and crack to the tune
A forest floor a pot of stew whose will it swoon

Who shall fall victim to Her love's spell?
Intractably, indivisible, not even death will be able to unveil 
Their heart's, sense's and soul's will ply like tree root in soils
Suffer yoked hearts of pain or a kiss of joy through cursed toils
Whether they're near or far away it's felt like induced coils

Treasurer's heart will free-fall steeper than Niagara Falls 
Held captive to psycho-physical calls 
Ultimately in tunnel vision like closing in walls
Bloom of light is the spells biological start
One deliberating night emerged a deciduous heart.

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