[There's music in my heart]

There’s music in my heart,
a strange brooding melody
as I look out on a fallen
necklace of bronze, silver,
golden leaves, all brilliant
jewels that do not reflect
the radiance of a season;
instead, a haunting wind
like some mystical flute
accompanies the chant of birds,
the chatter of squirrels.
I hear a lonely refrain:

    Without her love, woman is
    lost, wandering alone in
    the dark autumnal forest.

I want to hold your hand,
gather hickory nuts,
walk beside you
in this poetic mystery,
the season of memories.

In this painter’s dream
season of images—

    Without her love, woman is
    lost, wandering alone in
    the dark, autumnal forest.

How tall the trees stand
to remind me of you,
silently towering above me
like proud Afric royalty.

In the season of enchantment
I wish you were here
to comfort me when leaves fall!