The leaves descend in golden grace,
A soft whisper in the crisp air,
November’s breath on every face,
A season’s tender, quiet prayer.

Shadows lengthen, days grow short,
The sky a canvas, painted gray,
The world in stillness, as if to court
The gentle night, the end of day.

Fireside warmth and candlelight,
Hearts find solace in the glow,
The chill outside, a silent knight,
Guarding dreams that softly flow.

November’s dance, a fleeting time,
A bridge between the old and new,
With every step, a subtle rhyme,
In autumn’s hues, a promise true.