Contributor: Juan J. Gutiérrez

- -
Angel of autumn, whose music is like amber flame, pluck thy lyre.
Adorn this vale with the golden decay of November pyre.
Those who await his solemn song, become his evening choir,
Be still, sing and permit thou hearts to fill with gold desire.

Hearken! O' fixed stars
Hearken! O' audient stars

Through the season Heaven shall not shed a solemn tear,
So long as Torquaret's lyre-strings slay the dark and drear.
Death shall wave his moon-sharp scythe above the season's sphere,
And bring it down at the music's close, and laugh, and grin and leer.

Behold! O' stirring spheres
Behold! O' silent spheres

Torquaret ceased his song, on one soundless, autumn hour.
When the Heavens blessed the earth with a rare ephemeral power
He espied November's childe, born with the beauty of a flower
Of splendor rang his song, from beyond his cosmic tower.

Torquaret and his choir, and Tarquam and Gaubarel
And the fixed stars and the stirring spheres, they listened and they saw
The childe of November born, whom never shall they mourn,
Immortalized in song by the music of Torquaret


- - -
Juan J. Gutiérrez was raised in Sunland Park, New Mexico and now lives in Desert Hot Springs, California with his wife and daughters.