In The Meadows Poem by Joseph Peter Ostapiuk

In the meadows of autumn, you are the purple clouds
and the flowers where we lay in the evening glow
you are the birds dreaming into the sunset
and the song of the brief November breeze
In the meadows of autumn, your eyes
are as deep and seamless as the wild woods
whose distant firmament lays as far as I can see
past the drapery of our crimson veiled sky
In the meadows of autumn, I love you for love
and after the apple has fallen and toppled
into the basket of ours, I love you for love
For no cloud, nor evening, nor bird, nor breeze
nor wood, nor sky, could ever hold my love
without crumbling like mountains to the sea