Autumn Rapture

O Autumn! how artfully you do conceal
The whipping wind of tomorrow’s break
But who could think winter was real
Whilst gazing upon thy rosy wake
And trees freshly unburdened by chestnuts?
And what of October’s slow, oozing joy
That unwinds as the year slowly shuts
Soaking amidst the cricket chirping coy?
Aye! Who knows more of nature’s double dealings
That make one drunk with heavenly bliss
Only to fall victim to Romance’s feelings
As I once did, reborn among the Suisse!
So be wary of the passionate Ayre
That makes this golden season so fair!

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This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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