As the days grow short

As the days grow short, the colours turn bold,
deciduous trees discard green for gold,
russet and amber, an autumn array.
Seasonal palette of hues on display,
a feast for artistic eyes to behold.

The clear skies of day have been placed on hold,
evening’s glamour begins to unfold,
a last hurrah as the sun slips away,
as the days grow short.

The temperature plummets, the air grows cold,
but nature still paints, she is uncontrolled.
Repetition might seem a bit cliche,
but we see her glory day after day.
And beauty like this can never grow old,
as the days grow short.