Rhapsody of silver

The autumn air, so crisp and crystal clear,
The silence smells of leaves of golden hue.
Though gray and dull the day may now appear,
My soul is singing, walking late with you.

The autumn woods, in blood-red, gold, and brown,
That once would only bring a sense of grief,
Are not so gloomy now, nor do they frown,
But bright and cheerful, like a fallen leaf.

The autumn river holds no splashing fish,
Its weary waters heavy, leaden-gray.
The bank is bare; I stand with foolish wish,
Oh, muddy path, where have you led today?

A dreary time? Perhaps for some it’s so,
But I find peace and strength within your grace.
While others drink to let the sorrow go,
I’d rather snuggle in a warm embrace.

An autumn love — a dream with touch of sad,
A poet’s muse, a wisdom of desire,
Not just a fleeting thrill that drives us mad,
But a symphony that sets the soul on fire.

Apotheosis of passion, heart, and mind,
The sheer delight of her I hold so near,
Refinement in the madness that we find,
The joy of loving one so bright and dear.

And autumn turns to spring before our eyes,
The depth of feeling grows with every beat,
And she, so full of love, beneath these skies,
Becomes more precious, intimate, and sweet.

I wish to end this hymn of autumn days,
This rhapsody of silver in my hair,
On such a note, in deep and soulful ways,
As passionate a kiss as we can share!