I have kissed the Autumn dawn <br />laughed at the blond of her lips <br />running beneath the orange finger-tipped red <br />half-moon, the vital breath <br /> <br />of silver summited dew glistening <br />on the stones of marble <br />the damp violets enslaving conclusions <br />of winter’s breath over the last butterflies <br /> <br />I have kissed the meadows of october <br />laughed at the clouds dissolving <br />through a pillar of the treasured-sun <br />running through the breeze against <br /> <br />the memories of a few dozen autumns <br />it all comes first circle as life dissolves <br />but beauty remains a poor man’s dream <br />it comes every Autumn like an old traveler <br />ready to submit to red and gold.<br /><br />Seshat Nibada<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autumn-festival-of-dawns/
