In the hush of the waning days,
Leaves dance in golden hues,
A gentle breeze whispers secrets,
As the earth dons autumn’s muse.

Trees stand tall in fiery robes,
A tapestry of crimson and gold,
Every rustle a quiet song,
Of stories yet to be told.

The air carries a crisp embrace,
A promise of warmth and rest,
As nature slows its hurried pace,
In a season of quiet zest.

Underneath the harvest moon,
Shadows stretch and softly play,
Autumn’s whispers fill the night,
Welcoming the end of day.