Are you up for a poetic challenge? October's daughter....?

Hi Sin, where ya bin?

October's daughter

a tiny golden light

that sprinkled through

the treeline on the roadway

from a height of

yonder rooftop

she stood upon tip toes

reaching up to grab the moon

and so my story goes

October lent her light to us

in the form of laughter

and ever after I could see

October's wayward Daughter

Day of criminal duty A solemn Holy day Attended by skill of classmates On that all and sundry Saints Day luggage crammed with candy garnered final night. A recipe for a candy breakfast An urge i could no longer combat One Musketeer became to 4 Kiss wrappers littered the floor reasonable difficulty that became brewing became to a disaster while sometime after the 1st interpreting I splattered a Milky way next to a Saint on the plaster

The days beyond my breath were that of October's Daughter still in sorrow

For it be that she would never have thought to feel the touch of my soul

That tugged and pulled the very bob that loured the grasp of light toward her

the fancy father that stamped the petitioner to my final struggled, last breath.

The first glance that stood between the mirrors of our souls met before four lines

two lines crossed, two on each mark for the position of love saying, here lays the X

The shiest cover of her hands, blocked the sight, but left blemish to the chance of hello

with the echo ready with candle flame of lips--kiss-- Love non-translucent and unbounded by October

Will you wait for the morning light to spread across the hills with rays of love?

Pushing the hold of barricades that steal the essence of my lust as the crimson pours

Stranded by the handle of the days past my breath that took the very shunt

Mr. October, goodnight--kiss your daughter goodnight.

I am a magician, I swear. I mentioned not seeing you and Mek twenty four hours ago and BAM! You both show up today when I haven't seen either of you in six months! Wow I an amazing.

Next I'll have to predict the second coming of Christ.

I am the ember of a man

and I hold the keys to time

I was born over the water

and have the gift of rhyme.

Hallowe'en's frozen spawn

finishing the circle sublime,

I end almost where it began:

eleventh month, October's child.

May's son October appeared withered and worn

Danced a jig early that Sunday morn'

Thought happines eluded him that brisk cold day

Not again, not this time will the wind have its way

My crops are still standin' holdin' on strong

October prayed to his God and He heard his song

May came a runnin' when she saw the fruits of his labor

Her son would be the talk of the town she would wager

Just as they danced their jig she appeared from the stable

Lola came around, grabbed their hand and led them to a table

" I need help, Pa, this homework is hard"

"And you and Gran Gran are just looking at the yard"

Lola's Gran Gran smiled at her and said

"Your Pa has done good for our family, saved the food"

"Now cheer up little girl, we'll help you change your mood"

But first, you must know we appreciate the smile you can bring

And know because you are October's daughter you were born to do great things

BRB Sin, so cool to see ya.

Yep OK

She feels the approach

early night nibbles

more of the day

Her hand clutches

a pennant waved

though she knows not why

Already in costume

candy corn dreams

she watches, as leaves fall

Soon now, very soon!

she prays but waits

as the cool of seasonal change

lays a hand

on her sunburned shoulders

then sets the trees ablaze.

Such is the sense of Octobers daughter.

Light moving at dawn over the water

And the feeling of life majestically dying

Gives birth to the idea of October's daughter

Born into beauty but crying, crying

Beyond earthen leaves

brought by winds

called October's daughter

Lays a women scorn,

on an old wooden bridge

crossing fog covered water

She drinks from a skull,

she lovingly holds

From a man who thought

he had bought her

Silently leaves fall to the ground,

The fire in your heart is drowned,

An early sunset breaks the sky,

In the distance children cry,

When summer has been put to slaughter,

We are left with October's daughter.

the sun slopes more acutely

over fields of golden stubble

decay is on the breeze

October's daughter dances

at summer's funereal feast.