A vision pondered often still, indulging in that warmest chill
Of woman's touch so fragile much like fire's final ember...
Snuffed away upon my waking, leaving me in solemn aching
I feel it as I felt it then, and often do remember
The ember on my skin that I enjoyed on first November
And how I do remember...
A vivid conjuring this time, these treasured memories of mine
That it should feel so whole, divine... approaching more than embers
The taste is just as I recall, as Winter overcame the Fall
Am I within my dreaming hall, with thoughts of first November?
Could it be that I recall, more clearly than remember?
Could my dreaming hold such splendor?
I chance a glance towards the wall, surprised to find it's not at all
Autumn; bottom Summer still, the middle of September
And now I find the dream is real, a roaring flame where ashes stood
My dreaming mind has understood, no longer wand'ring in November
Emerging from that Faye'n wood, of distant things remembered
