Thy Autumn

What shall I call you
when you will weep
in the sleep of shedding autumn.
With these pink nails
you will scrape old skin,
And a drowsy behind you
will call then,
''still I witness thy charm
nothing autumn can prove''.
Then you will blush
eyelids down to earth
you will hold words
beneath thy breath...
I shall keep saying
the praising phrases
while my bizarre heart
will be melting Toor
and my eyes, the infant's walk.
During this jiffy
the autumn will ruin
and the snowman will freeze.