Long shaded walks neath gilded canopies,
as Autumn’s twilight song proclaimed the cold
with words from lips of russet, aired with ease,
entwined with brittle leaves of bronze and gold
in muted tones; a whisper on a breeze,
that breathed of sun-kissed hands she used to hold;
of how an arctic moon upon her crept,
dissolving thoughts of Summer as she slept.
The wind did paint in pearl encrusted hue,
o’er fading hint of fragrant amber glow
with jewelled tears of frosty morning dew;
the pale sun all but chilled the earth below.
Of ashen light, a season born anew
brought wilderness and unrelenting snow
to smother hibernating Autumn spice;
entombed, with just her dreams, in lands of ice.
Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010