The burning summer fades to distant lands,
And golden hues now grace the forest stands.
Behold the pearly sky, the light grows dim,
As Nature rests upon the twilight’s rim.
The paths are drowned, the wind is cold and bleak,
Yet in this warmth, no other solace seek.
What matters it if flowers fade and die?
While bloom remains beneath our lovers’ eye.
No need have we for sun’s relentless fire,
Nor youthful heat of untamed, wild desire.
Like russet oaks that brave the storm’s decree,
Our love stands firm in quiet majesty.
Come by the hearth, and hear the season sing,
The melody that autumn breezes bring.
Though years may flow like water under stone,
We face the winter, claiming love our own.
This piece reflects upon the beauty of enduring affection, drawing parallels between the ripening year and the maturation of the heart. It suggests that true intimacy is found not in the fleeting heat of summer, but in the comforting warmth of a shared hearth against the coming cold.
