it was 3 a.m. and i'm gazing into the open sky
into the darkness that lies ahead.

it was black , obviously (or was it grey?)
it was black but it wasn't evil or anywhere near it.

i was happy
because it was only me and the open sky
the fresh night air
and the stars, never to forget the lovely moon.

the scene changed

i was drowning in the open sea
nobody knew i was out here
i took this risk alone
and i know i might die of hypothermia here.

it was 3 a.m. and there's this
roller-coaster of emotions i felt
this vigorous scenes changing
and constantly fading.

9.00 a.m.
it took me 6 hours later
to realize that the stars i was staring at
actually they were your eyes.

and the ocean i'm drowning in
was your cold, stiff embrace.

As summer reluctantly gives way
And autumn waits at the doorway
Visible changes come their way
Though they are not for long to stay

Cool is the wind that blows in soft hum
And leaves fall with the bee’s thrum
When they fall curling in hundreds down
In a deluge of colors, the lands drown

Some leaves are seen swirling afloat in the space
And some fall softly across the landscape’s face
Of all the trees, the maple is a sight to relish
Which the eyes can never ever relinquish!

Orange and red, ochre and brown
Like the sparkling gems on a queen’s crown
In a variety of costumes the Earth parades
And everything, seen in a medley of shades

The trees are loaded with fruits ripe
And squirrels dart up to savor the pulp
Autumn is the season for gathering crop
When from the towering pines, acorns drop

As autumn tightens its strangling grip
And the blizzards blow in mightier sweep
The trees are stripped of all their leaves
And many a bird, deprived of its arbor, grieves

With the cruel bite of savage frost
Flowers fade and all their glamour, lost
As the days grow cold by and by
Birds in flocks begin to fly

They take on wings to warmer climes
Before the snowflakes fall in bits and piles
Soon the season falls into hushed silence
And waits for the winter with resilience!

Variety, we know, is life’s flavoring spice
And all seasons have their beauty and grace
But each has its own distress and decrement
And the only way to be happy is to be content

It's a dream childhood
taking the ten fifteen autumn ferry
for school on the other side of the river
little white butterflies
petite pretty ribboned
babbling like river ripples
boarding from the jetty in the sky
traveling below billowing September clouds
living only in now breathing joyous
no worry for a future
ferrying along the river
and now is all that counts
counting by the moments
fairy furlongs
on the ten fifteen autumn ferry.