A Sonnet

Autumn Love

Though of the autumn fires thy love was born,

She had a childlike carefree countenance.

She bore by will or by pure happenstance

A strong resemblance to a summer morn.

Until the last leaf off the branch was torn,

And trees, revealed, stood like the naked truth.

Thy love hang low her head, and her lost youth

And her elusive happiness did mourn,

Before her shrine of phantom dreams did bow,

As heavy clouds were gathering above.

The first frown lay upon thy love’s fair brow,

But in the whisp’ring rain the voices of

The ancient times she heard, that called her, “Thou

Shalt live forever.”  And she smiled, thy love.

Happy 15th Anniversary, Beloved.



Live for the Love of it,

The Happy Amateur

Poetic Bloomings 

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