The leaves descend in golden grace,
A tapestry of colors woven by the breeze,
Whispering secrets of the season’s embrace,
As time slows in the rustling trees.

The air, crisp with the scent of change,
Carries whispers of stories untold,
Each step on the amber path estrange,
The warmth that summer’s hands once held.

Shadows lengthen as days grow brief,
A soft symphony of nature’s art,
In every rustle, a gentle relief,
As autumn’s touch soothes the heart.

Beneath the canopy of fiery hues,
We find solace in the season’s close,
In the quiet, we gather, and muse,
On the beauty in the fading rose.