In the quiet of the morning light, they dance,
Leaves of amber, crimson, gold, a fleeting chance,
To tell a story in the autumn breeze,
Of whispered secrets and silent pleas.

They flutter down from branches high,
Like fragments of a sunset-painted sky,
Each leaf a letter from the trees,
Falling gently, carried by the breeze.

Upon the ground they softly lay,
A tapestry of nature’s grand display,
A carpet woven with care and grace,
In every corner, a new embrace.

As seasons change and time moves on,
The leaves remind us when they’re gone,
That beauty lives in every phase,
And whispers softly through autumn’s haze.