10 of 195

by Michelle Stockwell

As summer season leaves us, new scents of autumn fill the air,
leaves crimson, brown and gold, scatter without a sound,
twisting, turning, tumbling ever so gently to the ground.

Trees are left bare and spindly, naked in the cold.
birds evening song grows quieter as they make their southward flight.
Fires burning in log fireplaces to warm a cold brisk night.

Evening walks among the leaves that crunch beneath our feet,
houses appear warm and inviting with windows lit up like stars,
children writing with fingers upon the bonnets of frosty cars.

golden moonlight glows casting shadows upon the ground.
crumpets and hot cups of cocoa to warm us from within
tucked up in warm beds, awaiting the dawn of a new day to begin.

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Poetry: Autumn

by Michelle Stockwell

Poetry: Autumn

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