So bitter as it rolled past her lips, over her tongue,
Melted into Fall, crunching, cracking leaves,
Yet so sweet - a hint of pumpkin pie,
Cinnamon dripped over the edge.
It left a strange, comfy taste in her mouth,
All woolen blankets and velvet pillows; she was content in their embrace.

The next day, it was hearty oak.
Bark crackled beneath her canines,
Thick warmth, smooth and full,
Drizzled generously upon it,
It's tender flame melting the crust to chocolate.
She savored the taste,
reminiscent of small adventures.