The Fable Of Fall

The kiss of frost at last reveals
the promises of a regal cloak;
the hidden, dormant hues
worn by Aspen, Maple, Elm and Oak.

Release your hold on parent branch
and in silence come to rest
and spread your autumn beauty
upon my abundant breast.

You do not fall, but seems to dance
in eloquent and lively reel.
The constant tarentella ignites
the jubilance we feel.

What's food for one is shelter for another;
in endless ambiance are we.
In joy I offer you asylum
as you give nourishment to me.