Poem: Autumn.

Autumn.

The seasons they are changing and the air is getting cold,

The once lush green landscape now turning shades of orange and gold,

The nights are growing longer, mornings getting darker too,

The chilly dawn brings mist and glistening drops of dew,

The animals begin to forage, harvesting whatever they can find,

The season of hibernation is near and the weather is turning unkind,

The breeze becomes more blustery and the leaves dance to the ground,

The rustling crunch of footsteps is the most enchanting autumnal sound,

The cozy crackling fire gives off a relaxing ambient glow,

And we realise with gratitude oh how we love the Autumn so.... 

H. A. Hill 2020.