Song

I love you, Mrs. Acorn. Would your husband mind
if I kissed you under the autumn sun,
if my brown-leaf guilty passion made you blind
to his manly charms and fun?

I want you, Mrs. Acorn. Do you think you'll come
to see my tangles, windswept desires,
and visit me in my everchanging house of some
vision of winter's fires?

I am serious Mrs. Acorn, do you hear?
Forget your family and other ties,
Come with me to where there is no fear,
where we'll find summer butterflies.

I am serious Mrs. Acorn, are you deaf?

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