AskMeToWriteAPoem

Ask me this Straight to my face Kind little miss Must you look away from me? Eluding everything you see Terror engulfs you fair visage Hardly something I would wish Ignorance produces this mirage Sorry, will you ask me this?

I sit and write of Autumn, Of languid Autumn's day; The breeze blows out the leaves throughout, Beneath the branches' lazy sway. I’ll paint your eyes with Autumn, Show you Autumn's red monsoon; In frost-strewn fields, the surface yields Beneath the burning harvest moon. Of amber Autumn do I write, And of earthy Autumn's sigh, Of winds as crisp as winter's wisps Which dream of warmth before they die. I sing aloud of Autumn, Of a deep Autumnal night; Of leafy mounds, in colors profound Beneath the frigid starlight.