In golden hues of vibrant morn, behold,
A color rare, like sunlit dreams untold.
A hue that dances on the meadows green,
A color, like the fairest sight e’er seen.
As crimson leaves adorn the autumn trees,
A scarlet fox, swift as the evening breeze.
With fiery eyes that gleam with ancient lore,
This creature roams, forever to explore.
And nestled in the fox’s cunning paws,
A silver quill, that writes with noble cause.
A tool that weaves tales of love and woe,
A writer’s voice, with ink that freely flows.
Two men, entwined in love’s sweet, tender grace,
Defying norms, their hearts in warm embrace.
In secret whispers, stolen moments shared,
A love untamed, by prejudice not snared.
For love, like colors, animals, and things,
Transcends the boundaries that custom brings.
In this tale, where love reigns true and strong,
Two souls entwined, their love forever long.
