The Dance

1,2,3
1,2,3
How we danced
1,2,3

Swung me around
and then dipped me
underneath the
big oak tree
said 1,2,3, and a 1,2,3

Leaves & Promises

All the words

came and went,

like leaves on a breeze 

slow, then quick;

They could not be caught 

my efforts spent,

I wanted only to be sure

they existed then. 

Were they brown or gold

or red with yellow tint?

Goodness! My memory!

What was it again?

Did they land somewhere

safe and unbent;

and when they first fell

with all their intent, 

did they plan to carry away

all that was meant?

Should I pretend I never saw 

leaves bursting of colors of Fall

surround me and promise me 

to never and always and all?

If I stumble upon them 

in all their colorful dedication,

shall I just crush and stomp them 

beyond any recognition?

Can words spouted 

in seeming sincerity 

die, as they travel further away;

and does the heart that

throws leaves all around,

want to erase all that they say?

and if so, then perhaps 

such a person should stay far away from leaves. 

-aq/lesnspired