Summer's queen no longer fair wears yellowed leaves in tangled hair silver spider webs adorn, her faded harvest crown the living green, now sadly tinged with spots of bramble brown she wears a faded perfume the fragrance of last year it smells of sweet foreboding that Autumn may be here
Bramble jelly blackberry wine fruit of the hedgerow tastes just fine gloves and a bucket take a stick I will lift you grab it quick home for teatime happiness lingers on purple lips and crimson fingers
Stand before those Giant feet in sand the ones forgotten in a foreign land look upon the shattered visage lying there 'I am Ozymandius King of Kings Look Upon My Works, ye Mighty and Despair' remember well when hubris comes to call we are nothing but a pile of wind blown dust that's all
The lighted candle burns for just we two making nonsense of reason it brings such happy madness a joyous moonstruck affliction from which we hope to never be recovered love makes fools of us all and we would ever have it so for a world without it is true insanity
Sweetest fog consume my light curl with me through the coming night lay with me, stay with me, stroke my hair sing ye of calm, a peaceful air land on me, descend oh sleep in smoky promise of dreams to keep