A visit to you in New England.
Such a joy to behold.
A tree dressed all in red.
Another in burnished gold.
Mountains ablaze with colour.
I looked at you and wanted more.
Have you ever seen a bee which
fell into sweet, sugary syrup?
You are the syrup.
I could have been that bee.
To see your beauty
would once have made me happy.
I could have been trapped in your blaze
and caught in your gaze.
Before i saw you i sang at Carnegie Hall.
Walked the boards of that stage.
I sang and wanted no more.
Intoxicated with the richness and
deeply in love with the red velvet
lushness of the place
I was a very happy bee drowned in syrup
before I saw your autumnal grace. Such a death can only be endured once.