Here comes the fall of autumn leaves,
here comes the harvest moon,
and full shall be my heart that grieves,
my love thou didst impugn.
How can it be thou misconceives
a love in torment hewn,
how can it be that thou believes
of love I am immune
Thou sayeth thee can love me not
thou shalt not love affine,
take mine and not my brothers heart,
let’s drink of passions wine
Harvest my heart for thee it grieves
cast on the earth it strewn
Harvest my heart for it is thine
‘neath golden harvest moon.
Anna :o]
Rosemary at Poets and Storytellers United has prompted us to write about the moon and above is my offering. It is not new as I wrote it over a decade ago, but it came to mind and fits the bill. Cheers for the prompt Rosemary!
Image: Courtesy of Wikemedia Commons
