Late fall afternoons spent under the tree,
Cool winds blowing past as you read to me.
Last of the leaves are falling to the ground,
Your voice in the wild, my favorite sound.
Keeping you warm as the sun fades away,
Of course we should go, but we want to stay.
I'll recite sonnets as you snuggle near,
No need to strain your pretty eyes my dear.
My Shakespeare is a little hit or miss,
But it's good enough to earn me a kiss.
Heading back as the pages slowly turn,
The story of our lives, together we burn.
