Bad Day

It would appear
that I have nothing to say,
which for once is perfect
at the end of a long day.
I spend what moments are left
just watching you breathe
and waiting for sleep
to make light take its leave.
The pains of a so-called life
slowly drift from my mind
as my heart settles in
to this perfect love I find.
Tomorrow will come
and chase today away
but my moment here with you,
in my soul will stay.

© Autumn Siders 2018


Sixty-five beats per minute
and you catch my eye
as I will you to stop,
you walk right on by.

Eighty-two beats per minute
as you stop in your tracks
and flip your hair gently
as it flows down your back.

Ninety-nine beats per minute
as your eye catches mine;
be still, my heart,
this feeling is divine.

One hundred and twenty beats per minute
and you make your way to me;
I’m glued right to this spot,
waiting for what will be.

One hundred and forty-three beats per minute,
your husky voice fills my ears
and in one beat that lasts a minute
I know you are the one I’ve wanted for years.

© Autumn Siders 2018

A Promise

A promise I made
and a promise I’ll keep;
I’ll love you forever,
my heart’s in so deep.

I fall into your eyes
and land in your soul,
forever embraced
and finally whole.

A promise you made
and a promise I trust
with my heart in your hands,
my solitude a bust.

Watching you sleep
is all the peace I need
and hearing you breathe
means my soul is freed.

A promise I made
and you promised too
that your love for me
is equal to mine for you.

© Autumn Siders 2018

Made to Love

You say it’s all for me
and I hope that this is true
since all the love I have
is not reserved for you.
I care so much for me,
and surely you do too,
just as it should be,
this fact is nothing new.
Cats are made to be loved,
so that is what you’ll do
so stop playing dumb,
like you haven’t got a clue.

© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2018


Clouds float off the ground,
with the hope of rising again
only to settle down
and trap us in a pen.
The thickness that surrounds
leaves droplets on our skin
and visibility is scarce
letting mother nature win.
The sun will rise tomorrow
and soon the fog will lift
and the clouds they will remember
what it feels like just to drift.

© Autumn Siders 2018