Her name was autumn
her hair a colour auburn
like a fallen leaf
drifting on the breeze
spiraling spiraling
out of control
a free spirit
with a wild soul
for she had no master
a limitless beauty
all I heard was her laughter
as she danced for me.

The tree
has no need
to believe
in God
or son of man
no rhyme
or reason
at all
through time
the Kings and Queens
will fall
but the tree
still stands
so tall.

Beauty lies bereft and bound
it cries for help but utters no sound
mascara kisses fade from your lips
etched by lovers worn fingertips
purple rings around sullen eyes
the broken skin it never lies
fists of thunder make not the man
nor the swift strike of back of hand
a thousand apologies can never repair
the displacement of a single hair
for she is not an object for you to own
she is a Queen that deserves a throne
and if she allows you to enter her chamber
it's also her decision if you should remain there.