The Season Of Orange

Every season of all four are bright and dark in there own ways

Memorise natures gifts in life with our eyes we've photographed

A season like this is worth something so warm hearting to gaze

Regardless of it's messy orange blanket coating every ground and raft

Though Autumn is not always so, bleak, meaningless or hopeless

Feeling so dire, odd or spiritless like a long-lost lonely horse

But step outside and you'll find that no journey is ever roadless

Experience the pleasant flow in the air of a touching force

One stroll across the woods to wonder and imagine a dream

Insisting to be accompanied with or only by yourself

When the sun is out, embrace your space and zone of the orange beam

Drinking and enduring in the moment clearing in mind of health

Searching for stories and inspirations to become fictional

Memorising each day turning the page for your fingers to crawl

Though the dying of the flowers is pitiful but natures as liveable

Trees aren't as strong and thick like a stone wall yet proud to stand tall

You enter a moment of magic and bliss of an orange glee

Everywhere you step outside in this fall there are fallen leaves

Passing by and travelling near or far of any heightened tree

Cascading of diamond-shaped papers as if all left in deceives

Quite frankly glistening down but thick, rust and showering light

Wondering in leisure whilst laved of large carrot-coloured raindrops

Indulged in a world of fantasy passioned for something to write

As curious and seeking for self-freedom like a prowling fox

The pumpkins swell large and boulder hard for festive in the air

Though a vegetable evolved of the soil from roots to the fruits

Adjoined of the dirt not to mention the crisped leaves under the boots

Constantly crisp and crunch to amble here, there and anywhere

Youth generations celebrating All Hallows' Eve all around

Trick and treats for Halloween is hardly kept to a minimum

The spirit to embellish this lingers on with hardly no sound

Indulged in delights before the mess like folding aluminium

The Jack O' Lanterns display there own emotions glowed in fire

Decorated in screams and frights to gleam so bright in yellow

This festive event of fall is often kept minor or higher

Until candles die out to a maggoty, musty, mushy hollow

As late as this season skips the next chapter for a wintry view

Til the crisp and crunch of stepping on leaves pass by for wholesome

Disintegrating but returning soon with much more and less few

All though in this time it decays yet devines in the spirit of Autumn