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.
