In the land of forever autumn, things do die
Perpetually, beautifully, with little sighs
And it rains on leaves, crackle and crisp
Among the scent of custard apple pies and figs
And each foot step echoes on the stone path
As the air chills, with the autumn fad
Little blessings, as the sun mellows a bit
And things savor in pumpkin spice sweet
In the land of forever autumn, things do die
Artfully, tastefully, silent and dignified
There the ghost of you lives, enshrined
Intertwined with my demented little mind
For seasons all, autumn did suit you best
Softly waning in a golden splend
With a sip of the coffee, the whiff of pancakes hot
I remember you, bittersweet, weren’t you always so
A DESI MUFFIN 