Love is four seasons III- Autumn
Autumn
My beloved wears autumn’s golden gown,
Her honeyed hair falls gently down.
In her eyes lies a sorrow tender and sweet,
You are my autumn, O spring I once did meet.
Leaves descend like letters left unread,
One by one to earth they are spread.
The wind of autumn whispers through the trees,
A voice from time’s deep heart, telling memories.
Golden pages drift like a half-forgotten song,
Each line inscribed as the earth moves along.
And soil becomes the gentlest bed,
Where all these tales of love are softly said.
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