In the cradle of October’s gentle sigh,
Leaves drift softly from their lofty boughs,
Painting the earth with hues of golden dye,
As nature dons her autumnal blouse.

The air is crisp, a brisk embrace,
Carrying whispers of tales untold,
A dance of shadows in a sunlit space,
Where secrets of the season unfold.

Beneath the harvest moon’s tender light,
Fields slumber in a tranquil dream,
Bound by the quiet of the night,
Wrapped in October’s silken seam.

In every corner, a story lies,
Told by the rustling of the trees,
A symphony of nature’s gentle cries,
Echoing through the October breeze.