See the trees grieve, disdain fruiting-
gone, the shed of many hues,
lain at each their bottoms were-
thieving sea breeze have them gotten,
looting, before due-north headed.
Rain and earth, like tea leaves,
stains under her waning gaze-
whispers of approaching Autumn.
Hear the hares who stand on end,
share in fretting as the wetting,
drizzly weather becomes grizzly.
Bare, the boughs, but for a pair
of owls setting, each of their
glowing glares a pair of vowels.
Crying tears the night a-splinter,
letting drop a hint of Winter.
Bringer of the birdsong singing,
lark aloud and softly swallow,
my pride follows clouds retreating,
lingers near the humming bees.
Sting my eyes till I see clearly
how to take her steady beating
wings as hallowed harbingers
of ringing Spring’s arrival.
Come, my sum of charms, disarming,
leisure loving up and comer,
over to my clover bedding-
rest upon my treasured chest.
Never will we shed our coat of
arms which strum each careful measure
to the song of pleasure at the
wedding of our sky and Summer.