SWEET AUTUMN CLEMATIS

A matutine mizzle

Thy calentivay

Those days decay

Grading to grey

And she a nelipot

Once rousted by vines

That trail all over

The alpines high

Beauteous O beastous

Tall aestival pines

A tale did render

Of many a mile

Nor nother breeze

Her towering cease

Nor nother wrench

Her ticker receives

©LIL ARCHA