OK, I can admire the Autumn and her business:
Soft bellied clouds, red cheeks, the leaves’ golden grace.
Appreciate the sun’s silver blade
Carving crystal out of dust and cinder.
And here is Autumn, rising like a woman from her sunbed,
Promising golden gifts, jewels and nectar.
The dazzle of the sun glinting on a looking glass,
The warm and wanton pressure of the catspaw clouds.
But somehow now I miss the brittle briskness
Miss the wind like a razor on my face
Miss the iron trees against the aluminium sky
The stone cold certainty of winter.
Edward is a lecturer and writer, mostly on business and politics. He often posts twittaku (double haiku in 140 characters) on Twitter, plus the occasional political limerick.