In the gentle sway of amber leaves,
The whispers of the cool breeze call,
Painting skies with golden sheaves,
As nature dons her vibrant shawl.
The crisp air holds a tale untold,
Where warmth and chill dance and play,
In fields of ochre, red, and gold,
Time seems to gently slip away.
Beneath the trees, a carpet laid,
Of leaves that crunch with every stride,
A tapestry by autumn made,
Where secrets of the season hide.
As daylight softly fades to rest,
And twilight weaves its dusky spell,
The heart of fall beats in the chest,
In harmony with natureâs swell.