In the gentle cradle of autumn’s embrace,
Leaves dance to the rhythm of the breeze,
A tapestry of gold and crimson grace,
Whispering secrets through the trees.

The sun dips low, a fading glow,
Painting shadows long and deep,
While the earth prepares for winter’s snow,
In a slumber soft and sweet.

Crisp air kisses the weary soul,
As pumpkins guard the harvest’s tale,
Nature’s beauty, a fleeting goal,
In the rustling whispers of the gale.

As twilight weaves its silver thread,
Across the autumn’s vibrant cloak,
Memories linger, softly spread,
In each leaf that gently broke.