September

Beautiful amber
Nice little words
I’m in September
Want to write lots

Light and brisky yellow
Falling oak-tree leaves
I believe endeavours
To your heart beseems

Lines of little mellow
Fine of face your treats
Happy pair of sparrows
In blue skies are freed

Fields of flowers garish
Piece and love through deep
Longer not in barrows
Rather whole and sweet

Evanescent pathways
Brush our hair in right
Choose your amber clever
Through the myriad stars

Will you marry blackness
Of beseeched and lost
Born I’m in September
Choosing you my wife