Autumn

When leaves succumb to colder days,
to wilt on aching trees.
Then taken by lamenting winds
like rusted memories.

Where wary flowers slight the fall,
undressing hues to sleep.
They’ll feign their deaths ’till seasons pass,
come spring their colours reap.

Our feathered friends to foreign lands,
o’er mighty oceans ye.
Ye heaven-faring wanderers,
ye minstrels o’er the sea.

When sun from gold to silver morns
on hard-laid northern hills.
The noble stag to lead his clan
and brave the highland chills.

Come colder winds to sweep the land,
the early frosts of morn.
The moldy rains bring ills and pains
and graveyards left to mourn..

When summer sheds to autumn’s will
her days in naked dress.
I rise to greet her morning’s brace
for I love her nonetheless.