Morning bliss
rain’s gentle kiss,
so soft in touch
on whispered breeze;
sprinkling my nose
with delicate perfume
of moist, fresh air;
that taste consumes.

As I walk this path
in seeping fall
it gives me a chance
to take in it all,
and realise dear
something is amiss,
it’s not nature’s touch
I feel with bliss;

it is but yours,
in delicious scent
with your dark, curled hair,
that brings me to descent;
for those forged-brown eyes
and those lips a treat,
and cheeks infused
with a smile so sweet.

You are my fall
of gentle rain,
my seasons all,
my cherished refrain.

You are just like
a single star
of glistening dew
felled from the clouds;
a unique drop
that reached my hand,
to see that smile
is where I stand.