Fall is in the air.
In the Morning, I hear it's whisper.
Gold begins to take the landscape,
Touches of crimson
Kiss the trees.
The morning sun rises
Through veils of
Drifting fog.
Autumn is gently approaching.
The promise of cool,
Of color,
Of chilly nights and
Crisp days.
Apples and pumpkins
Brighten the days before
The dark and cold of
Winter.
It is a sweet smell,
This, the passing of another year.
Mingled aromas of leaves,
Earth and harvest.
Sweet upon the palate.
Delight upon the eyes.
Welcome to the colors of fire,
That dance wildly
For too short a time.
Before the whites and grays
Of the earth's long
Sleep.
This post first appeared on El Milagro Studio: Little Miracles Of Art, please read the originial post: here
