In the gentle arms of September’s grace,
Leaves turn to whispers of gold and red,
A canvas painted in time’s tender trace,
Where every step is softly tread.

The breeze carries tales of summer’s end,
A lullaby sung by rustling trees,
Moments like these, we wish to suspend,
Embraced by the cool, calming breeze.

Morning mist dances with the dawn,
Crisp air awakens the soul anew,
Each sunrise a promise, each day reborn,
In skies of deep and endless blue.

September’s song, a fleeting delight,
Echoes in hearts where memories lie,
A gentle farewell to summer’s light,
As autumn’s colors fill the sky.