In the forest where the whispers grow,
The leaves dance in a golden glow.
A silent symphony, a gentle breeze,
Painting tales among the trees.

Beneath the canopy, the colors shift,
A lullaby as branches lift.
Each leaf a story, each fall a verse,
An autumn spell, a timeless curse.

Rustling secrets in amber tones,
The forest hums in hushed tones.
A fleeting beauty, a transient grace,
Nature’s canvas, a sacred space.

As twilight falls, the leaves descend,
Their final journey, a graceful end.
In the quiet, their whispers cease,
Leaving behind a world at peace.