Autumn Lips

The autumn leaves blend with thee, as thy gently fall from beauties tree
Unto my lips and so sweetly, thou kiss my lips and give life to me
Thy modest lips never touched but by thine own lips pristine
Tenderly kiss my grave lips and raise me from death's terrible scene
Thou cover me in color and with thy death give hope
To my poor soul, who in thy rain of color blindly grope
For thy soul behind autumn color which does so gratuitously give
Me the vivacity to search for thee and live.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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