Autumn, your name is sweet – nectar on my tongue. Won’t you stay? I breathe your name, and it turns to a light smoke, a condensation dripping from my lips. Your cool breeze enwraps my body, sends chills up my spine. I breathe you in deeply, the leaves changing colors with each breath I take. They bleed into the color of your eyes – flecks of gold, ruby, and topaz, colors of our earth that awaits the frozen air of Winter. Only your colors are brilliant and vivid, for Winter will not bring a single color. Winter will wipe the color off the face of the planet, shrouding it in a deathly white.
Autumn, your stare is as pure as the moon that shines upon me. Your nightly shadows scattered across the land accompany the light glittering over the diamond trees. The city lights up in your presence. They are waiting for you, dreading Winter’s unruly visit, for Winter will only offend them. He will bring no gold, nor ruby, no distant stare, but a piercing, relentless focus.
Autumn, your face is soft and fragile, your lips curled with a grin. Your skin is lightly colored, blood still flowing through your veins, painting a gentle blush across your cheeks. There is such a beauty in your light complexion, unlike Winter’s drained husk.
Autumn, your voice is deep – baritone melodies in my head. Your voice whispers through the trees around me. It is so silent, almost still. It is but a slow, even murmur compared to the beating of my heart, the ticking of a clock, the uneven flow of traffic. How is it that your voice is so tender? I don’t have to wait to hear you. You speak to me always, unlike Winter’s cold silence. His voice is non-existent – an imaginary tone. He speaks to no one.
Autumn, you are kind – you come before Winter to prepare the earth for his harsh cold. Your colors blanket the land as if to make up for the death that Winter has to offer. You offend no one with your radiant beauty. You bring families together, chilly weather for the piling of leaves, the holidays for sharing and thanksgiving, the memories for years to come. You love as you are loved. Winter is not so kind. His weather pushes people apart, separating them with ice and loneliness. He drowns out their hopes for warmth and better days with his persistent snow. Winter is not so loved.
Autumn – you were meant to stay. Please, you must not go. Can’t you see that you are adored? Your ruby leaves and gentle whispers through the trees cannot be remade. Your kindness and favor are unmatched. No season is parallel to you, you see. No frozen winds of a drained soul, nor the heartless silence of a predator, nor the displeasure brought upon me by a dying season could win my heart. No other can satisfy me. No – it is only you, my sweet Autumn, for there are none that compare.
Michelle creates customized designs for any occasion. She sings and climbs and enjoys the outdoors.
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