These are the months of love, meant to

write “I love” fall. A slip of tongue

Autumn, boo, is my most favourite hue.

 

Old school notes run through

seasoned phrases, to rest on one.

These are the months of love meant to

 

Be different every time, its cue

Diz and Bird’s Things to Come. 

Autumn, boo, is my most favourite hue.

 

Tuneful smooth leaves a colour stew

stick like truth to your heart and lungs. 

These are the months of love, meant to

 

Shore you up when you got Downhearted Blues

after summer sweats done left you wrung.

Autumn, boo, is my most favourite hue.

 

Sweet. Lips laid on mouths made new

All Night just like when Queen Bey sung.

These are the months of love, for two.

Autumn, boo, is my most favourite hue.