Amidst the rustling leaves of gold,
Where whispers of the autumn’s breeze,
Soft tales of summer’s warmth retold,
As nature dons her crimson sleeves.

The sky, a canvas of fading light,
Paints shades of amber, red, and brown,
While shadows grow with the coming night,
The earth prepares her golden crown.

In fields where pumpkins lie in wait,
And harvest moons do softly glow,
The air grows crisp as nights grow late,
And time moves with a gentle flow.

Beneath the trees, in silent dance,
Leaves flutter down in soft descent,
In autumn’s fleeting, sweet romance,
A season’s end, a heart’s content.