September heaves her last hot heartfelt breath;
My hollow chest relinquishes your hold,
As reddening leaves in readiness for death,
Portend the coming emptiness of cold.
Without your gentle wisdom all seems lost;
Like leaves of gold your essence falls to dust.
Abandoned, spirit hovers like the ghost;
Between all leaves and branch denied all trust.
If ever spring her blossomed love does call,
Less deeply we should fantasize the flowers,
Lest we forget the pain of Autumn’s fall;
Not while away the preciousness of hours.
All dies too soon by love’s contentious rope,
Yet lives so deep love’s pure unfettered hope.