The leaves of autumn spill and fall.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, its rhythmic sounds.

Early Morning symbolical verses and rotting

leaves that reflects my aching brain.

Autumn falls. Do you hear the wind carrying

a symphony of noises? You are loved,

our hearts spill the joy and admiration.

Our hearts speak for themselves without

a single sound or word.

The leaves continue to spill and we are

left wondering the beauty of it all.

The leaves are falling and my admiration is you.

And my heart is being loved like a small child

with a toy.

As if my soul a wild animal.