Autumn Shade Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

AUTUMN SHADE

What becomes of the summer's boon,
When the face of stars of longing gently mate,
Extolled with silver and all things great,
Within the grace of the manifold, fantastic moon?

Where did they go, those sunlit days,
When you and I walked through the dales,
Drinking potent, Irish ales,
Kissing in an ardent haze?

Our love is now akin to the gems
That once brought rays from Elysian dreams.
They flow, like dying leaves on streams,
Pale, as sallow diadems.

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ