Leaves pirouette in the crisp, gentle breeze,
Dressed in hues of amber and gold,
Beneath the whispering trees,
Stories of autumn unfold.
The sun dips lower in the sky,
Casting shadows long and deep,
As nature sings a lullaby,
Preparing for her winter sleep.
The air is filled with a fragrant spice,
Cinnamon and clove entwine,
A season’s gift, a fair device,
To warm the heart and soul’s design.
In this serene, fleeting time,
We find beauty in the decay,
As autumn weaves her gentle rhyme,
In every leaf that drifts away.