For a lifetime,
he hated transitions.
Until the chill hit
his nose,
his toes,
and the wind blew
away his woes,
like leaves left the trees.
The sights and sounds
of the fair,
wind in her hair
as he stared at the
blush on her cheeks.
She is but a carousel away,
but yes,
this was the day
he would kiss all of her
gloom away.
In pale moonlight
Shaking with delight
Her hands were warm,
her lips much warmer.
The lovers beamed
With dazzling colors,
A painting of orange,
of reds, of yellows.
It was the fall,
in which he fell
for the girl
he'd always wished for.
For a lifetime,
he hated transitions.
But maybe this one
was not so bad
after all.
