Autumn Songs

Even in my dreams,
Never did I think that I would,
Write letters on music staffs,
To the one I loved forever.
Music is a golden opportunity,
An intertwining symphony.
Like our hearts beating in sync.
The song never gets old,
Difference is how it is told.
Lean on me; take our roles.
You be the notes and I the staff.
Notes soft, slow, long.
A cool evening breeze of a song.
The staff, with sharps and flats.
Changing, falling over and again.
We are entrancing,
Always on the tip of one’s subconscious.
Leaving faster than a fleeting thought.
I wrote letters on music staffs,
That one fall evening,
Hoping that we were similar,
A forever never ending song.