Seize The Autumn Mist Poem by Norman F. Santos

Amidst a horizon of sporadic seasons, stood
A wayward gambler of sangfroid optimism
Wreaking of departure in the eyes of an interlude
Cascading with a wintry streak of a prism
A rapine of the grandiosity banishing all subdued
Words that vessels emotions in taut surrealism

The aftermath of golden deluge and sullen drought
Fore the wintry rape and frosted cellars bolt
A beautiful shedding, the mist of copper hair brought
Comported in a poise deeming the sun a harlot
For corrupting the radiance it spun and wrought
Undeserving of abduction; a beautiful fault

Hoping for amends but the more it is changing
The more the season of withering remains mundane
With aloofness of untainted bliss, tethering
A tatterdemalion vagabond in a flee too profane
Erred and flawed hands can’t carry the bosom of the writhing
Season of falling a gambler can never abstain

Ephemeral autumn days encumbering perpetual bliss;
Dormant abrasion in a feigned cinched delusion
Should I resign a kiss? Should I deprive the mist
Of autumn yearning to be seized in revulsion?
Ambivalent in complacent hues of your own fist
Little yielding fist, wave your sweetest tides of gravitation.