Voices of Autumn
I know not what autumn would've been
Without Pine, Cedars and Maples tall,
Their leaves in shades of myriad hues
And the endearing Robin's call;
The withered leaves weave a carpet soft
Bending boughs with their skeletal look,
Blue-grey skies and a crimson dusk
My languor they verily took;
Hope flies in and tweets deep in my heart
Whistling the tune of an old folk song,
Reminds of many autumns past
And faces I spied not since long;
Their gentle embrace and caring looks
Honeyed voices that pledged love for me,
Autumn said they'll stay with my soul
Entombed until infinity!
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