Lady Autumn, in russet hues,
'Neath urban shawl, in shadows fold,
Her soft breath, a poet's muse,
Silk whispers scribing saffron gold.

Skin aglow, with burnt flushed cheeks,
She fulminates 'gainst dying sun,
Skies that smolder in crimson streaks,
Her voice, the wind's lamenting hum,

To every leaf a eulogy,
Tribute to its murmured secret,
Once a part of Symphony,
Now tumbles to a tyre's rut.

Soft the pavements tread her cloak,
In alleyways, in quietude,
Drapes from willow and chestnut oaks,
Now silhouette of awkward ****,

In amber light, in frozen grasp,
As frost begins its creep,
As Autumn yields to Winter's clasp,
As world succumbs to sleep.

'Cross sombre fields, as shadows softly creep,
And fingers' twilight hush the world,
An addlepated wanderer, his mind asleep,
Ambles o'er a gaia upcurl'd.

In winding paths, 'mongst ancient oaks,
Midst fragrant pines and needles,
A maze of tangled thoughts of jokes,
Of tricks and jibes and wheedles,

Finds solace in solitude,
A quiet of golden hues,
And soft aside a slumbering brood
'Neath Diana's glows diffuse

Sighs beneath the weight of life
unpacks his heart's despair,
and closes eyes to whirl of strife,
To breathe the peaceful air.

Twilight where the shadows blend,
Beneath the veil of time,
Where thousand lives their journey end,
And start eternal climb.

worn and free, in silver mist,
An essence wends its way,
through memories of the chances missed,
through plans that now decay.

As dreams and whispers from the past,
Block path, elusive flight,
'Mongst fragments of the broken hearts,
Seeps wraith of fulgent light.

A relic of truth of bygone day,
Good deed that was not lost,
Frail and thin, it shines its ray
And bears the spirit aloft.

"Where does He dwell?", sing the angels
"Where's His abode?", their refrain,
between the lips of heart's beseech
Beatific's Light's contain'd.

Between the woods and frozen lake, a winter's chill,
A white blanched silence blankets dale and hill,
In crystal frost, diverse potpourri of nature's twill,
All still, in whispered breath of Divine Will.

On greenest bank where daffodils sway,
where bluebells awe the senses,
where field-thrush with blackbirds play
beneath the hawthorn fences

On dewy grass of early May,
Of verdant meadow breezes,
Beneath the oak, the wooers lay,
Where nature's love appeases.

I heard the murmur of a stream,
cool brook of crystal waters,
that shimmered as an alpine gleam
a sun with million daughters

It said it promised to create
world new, rejuvenate,
With warmth and light embrace the soul
babe start on fresh new goal.

And though from far there came the roar
Of greed, of horror, of want for more,
of blood, of battle, of broken heart,
of lies, corruption, of untold hurt,

I lay back in that light's embrace
In dawn of newest world,
And let myself believe in Grace,
Of blessing to unfurl.