After waiting my whole life, ripe malachite two seasons Full and burgeoning voracious to an ever tender aching For kaleidoscopic sunsets - Now I've finally in uneven Tones begun to turn these destined colors, with the quaking Advent of your gentle winds here surfaced freshly precious Gold and crimson; with the blessed advent of your sweet First frost to kiss my microphyll arrangements, breathless Brilliance fascinates and I cling even stronger to the heat Of sinewed life, seeing with clear reflection on self's surface These complexions of horizons crowned. Transfigured now Towards this, our lingering season, praying that the burnish Of my new born soul be testament to junctioned vows: Love, I was green so long in simple sun! Deliver endless Autumn to display its holy relics on my eager canvas.
~CRH October 2012
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