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HEART'S AUTUMN
The brown leaves fall,
The time of spring is over,
My heart waits,
When will its hope thus wither!
Come hither says the poet,
Go where, asks the soul,
Where is the greenwood tree?
Why is everything quiet?
Ambition? this heart had some,
Everything has died as the sun,
descends to cast long shadows,
All around me there is autumn.
hmmm
well what now
fie on autumn
as that daring poet
Emmenay loves to say
for now it is
Heart's Spring
fast approaching
Heart's Hottest Summer
I declare this day to be
and no autumn can truly
stand up to heat
in any real or memorable way
that is unless
it comes from a certain lady's
unforgettable lips
and hips that mesmerize
the eyes that watch them sway.........
joyest poem .