To the Huntress


O hazel eyes you taunt me so,
Belie that loving kiss,
And promise too
A hint of loving bliss
Which shames me in its innocence,
Yet warms and cherishes,
By the very essence of its light,
That hidden fear,
The depth of feeling.

O Autumn! Why treatst me thus?
Where is the honesty that summer gave?
And where too the trust?

                                                jimtom ktj