Miltonic sonnet:
Crisp leaves under heavy shoes,
Cold breeze amidst the air,
Wandering through forests without a care.
What do I have to lose?
The sky tinted with orange hues,
And the wind running it's fingers through my hair,
All of which with you I can share
Leaves now Gamboge not chartreuse
The joys of Halloween
And the scent of pumpkin spice
And soft cotton jumpers against your skin
The sunset golden like the crown of a queen
Awaiting winters ice
And the harsh frozen weather to begin