You always told me you were named after the season,

But I’ve come to believe that the season was named after you:

.

Your gaze lays the August sun to rest

And raises the September sky.

.

Your bright eyes, my favorite shade of hazel,

Give the Autumn stars their brilliance

And the moon its glow.

.

The summer leaves are singed by your fiery touch

And turn bright yellow,

Rosy red– like your lush lips on his–

And orange, like the pumpkins we carve together in October.

.

As you embrace the bark of our favorite oak,

Your laugh carries on the wind,

So warm and soothing,

Like the taste of mulled cider

Sipped on your porch.

.

Your sweet breath kisses the cool air

Like the first frosts kissing the dewy morning.

.

Teasing me with your touch,

Your auburn hair flows freely

And tangles on my fingers

As I paint these fallen leaves for you

.

And your love chars the sunset crimson

But I can’t see it from where I stand.

.

You pierced my heart

With your mysterious ways

And left it like the bare branches of winter,

Devoid of Autumn’s gaze.