When Summer had gone, and the leaves looked grey,
Just strewn on the ground like forgotten dreams.
I asked thee tread softly in light of day.
When yet you moved careless, or so it seemed.
Such fleeting emotion, such fleeting charm,
Like the remnants of summer you had left.
Lie hollow and still, right here in my arms;
Such dull reminders of the day we met.
And now perpetual winter beckons,
Encumbering dark willing your return.
Count down the minutes, count down the seconds,
And on your arrival, the sun will burn.
But I know that thus being only thus,
Thine beauty is bold, and so wait I must.