The lady.


She tip toed away,
And you came.
The winds heralded your coming.
There was a rustle in the leaves,
Crisp, fallen and brown hues.
Tree tops whistled.
Oh! the azure sky can be prettier no more,
downy comfort strewn across.
An amorous gale from unknown skies
renders me numb
hair dances in untamed rage
birds fly agog to far lands,
You have come.