~warm~ Poem by Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun

Moonbeams cling to misted trees
Stroll long in orchard's apple breeze,
Take-in autumn, now I fall
All splendor-seeking, senses call.

Burns the moon, a harvest mass
A glowing orb of golden glass,
Here I sit as fire-sparks fly
Like fairy-wings above up high.

Leave me unto autumn's world
Asleep within a chestnut curl,
Wrap-round curves of maple leaves
Warming my soul in golden sleeves.

9-12-06