Outside the world is no longer green,
For the leaves on the trees are turning.
Scarlet, crimson, orange, and gold;
The trees are as fiery as matches burning.
Summer has said, \'It\'s been a pleasure,
But I must pack my bags. Farewell!\"
Then sneaks up autumn so slowly to say,
\"Sit down, I have secrets to tell!\"
There\'s a little field behind a house
Where the farmer\'s fall crops grow,
And a little hay man is standing there
To scare away the crows.
Autumn is a beautiful season;
It\'s the time for family and friends,
For Halloween and festivals,
And the breezy, cool air it sends.
But as I walk down the orange trail
I think of past times and years,
And memories come like a flood to my mind,
And from my eye escapes a tear.