tarnish

I've been talking a lot about writing and poetry today. And a friend of mine gave me one of his that I absolutely adore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first cool breeze of autumn,
insinuates with good cheer
And whispers ribald secrets
Into the rustling trees' ear

He slyly strokes their trembling limbs
And their leaves flutter like fans
They pretend to ignore his suggestions
And show him the back of their hands

But the crafty devil is persistent
And the embarrassed trees grow red
As his whispers grow more insistent
their leaves they willingly shed

At last naked and joyously free
They stretch in his chilly embrace
their whispers become soft low moans
that put a smile on his devilish face

Alan K.