Perfect Autumnal Memories

A wisp of sweet, fresh air slips down my throat; the first conscious taste of the day.
Eyes slowly awaken to the warm tangerine glow that engulfs the place in which I stay.
Fingers grasp the linen sheets,still warm from the travels through dreamland,
A beautiful realisation dawns; on this day, there is nothing that I have planned.
A day free from commitment or duty. A rarity. A perfect gift.
A curious thing that I have found, it is always easier to lift
My head from my pillow on days such as these, and I find my feet on the ground.
Gently pull the curtains apart and gaze out at the beauty around,
The azure sky and beaming sun smile down on the auburning trees.
That shake their branches like I shake my arms, shaking off leaves; I shake worries.
And I smile to myself.

Wrapped up in layers, the cold bites at my nose and a tear or two escape down my cheek,
Not an emotional reaction, I am calm and at ease, but the wind makes my eyes feel weak.
Into the car: my dog, my man and I, he drives us through old country lanes.
The grass sways rhythmically, as we flash past, warm and content I feel pleased,
I gaze out of the window at the falling leaves, as they gracefully dance on the breeze.

Our destination is breath-taking, although I have been there many times,
I am always enchanted, filled with nostalgia- beautiful scenes fill my mind.
The place has a large lake, upon which swans glide, ducks paddle in pairs around the green sides,
The woods hold a magical feeling, a combination of a child's imagination from my younger days,
and a young woman's lust for the real beauty of nature, I am bewitched, it is the perfect place.
Side-tracking from our usual paths always leads us to somewhere that I have never laid eyes,
A beautiful passage of bending trees, leaves that blush crimson, a humble surprise.
We walk back to the lake, my gloved hand in his, as we laugh at my excitable dog,
Who runs and bounds so clumsily, ducking under leaves and bouncing over logs.
We laugh as we reminisce on the time when he slipped and fell into the lake,
I had to climb down and rescue him, my poor little friend, our silly Jake.

When we get home, the skies have darkened and faded to a deep, inky blue,
Dotted with as many stars as I could hope to see, through the suburban hue.
Inside, in warmth; leave the bitter cold outside; shoes off, slippers on.
I'll make some soup, while he plays guitar, if I know the words, I'll sing along.

Candles and incense, the heating turned high,
The wind in the chimney like the house breathes a sigh,
Wrapped in a blanket, I'm happy, content,
Not watching the film, but the scenes in my head,
Of blue skies and red leaves and dog, man and I,
I drift back to dreamland and through dreamland I fly.