There are days in which, 

We fall for someone. 

Like Autumn falls after Summer:

Quickly, beautifully, 

And full of fire. 


As the leaves danced along the ground, 

And the rain kissed the road, 

I could tell that life was dying, 

Turning orange and yellow, 

In the fire, 

But it was so beautiful.

How strange.


Be my rose;

My thorns are sharp, 

Be my muse;

My colours are dull, 

Be my window;

My frame is breaking, 

Be my love; 

My heart is aching

© 2019 Charlotte Dormoy