Queen Autumn

Queen Autumn

Topaz leaves flutter above,
crowning you a lovely queen.
Autumnal, impressionist art,
reflects in eyes of tourmaline.

Limbs like willows white,
beseech and utterly beguile.
Lips like rosy, harvest fruits,
on the table of an ivory smile.

Thou art the music of the fall,
with a body to shame Venus.
Thine hair of cinnamon hues,
warms the crisp air between us.

I am undone and at thy feet,
as a leaf, now slowly falling,
to glories sultry and sweet,
wherein thy charms are calling.

Could I ever be the one to tame,
thy voluptuous and burning soul?
A dying summer speaks your name.
My Queen, thy name is Autumn.

By: Kimarie Manhart-Freeman