Brown leaves brings times of dreaming
Foggy morning on the hillside across the way
The ghosts dance in the graveyard
Safe in the sweaters holding you tight in the chills embrace
The eerie atmosphere comforts me
I surrender each year to the witches that fly above me as they try to cast their spells along my open soul
They know I am open, they know I have already sold my soul to Autumn
When the breeze takes me away and I am playing with the spirits in my head
Jazz plays on the record player and we drink tea until we fall asleep headfirst into your books of old
Never to slip into Winter
The falling of the leaves rain like angel dust
I catch each drop in my mouth and hope that I catch the fever of fall
I never want to escape the chills grasp
I sleep on a bed of dying leaves forever lost in my contentment of the death October brings
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