Autumn

The sun dips low, a golden sigh,

As summer's warmth begins to die.

A crispness fills the morning air,

And leaves ablaze paint landscapes rare.

The emerald cloak, the forest wore,

Now dressed in hues of bronze and more.

Reds, oranges, and yellows bright,

A fiery dance in fading light.

The wind whispers through branches bare,

A mournful song, a scent of pear.

Squirrels gather, tails held high,

For winter's chill is drawing nigh.

The pumpkins round, with faces bold,

Await the tales of nights of old.

And birds in flight, in graceful V's,

Seek warmer climes beyond the seas.

A time of change, a bittersweet sigh,

As summer fades and bids goodbye.

But beauty sleeps in nature's hold,

A promise whispered, soon unfold.

For winter's rest will bring its grace,

And spring's renewal take its place.

So autumn's charm, with colors bright,

Embraces change, and welcomes night.