Autumn's breeze

A poem I wrote about my friend, she officially claims autumn and poisonous flowers

Forth!

beyond the hemlocks draping her abode,

A maiden in the meadow;

land of her own

the finest redolence!

Where wolfs-bane throne.

Nigh,

as her fingers slip faultless into yours

and her arms swathe your figure once more:

The iris's tears!

Alike trinkets adorning my wrist

her locks of night threads

allay, melting on my chest.

Serves love to all,

spares none to thee

bodied blind and selfless-

unaware of her autumn breeze.