Autumn awakens.
She uncovers herself
from under her thick fog duvet
and stretches all across
the sleepy hillside,
the still-silent farmhouses,
the snoring streams.
The trees blush scarlet,
shivering as she breezes by
in her long sundress of red,
and ochre, and gold.
Somewhere, a magpie calls.
Little furry shadows--
squirrels and chipmunks,
they dart across the fields
looking for pinecones for breakfast.
Sparrows chitter excitedly
among bright yellow gingko leaves.
Autumn watches over them all,
and then gazes at the timid couple--
with the soft sunlight in their eyes,
the warmth between ungloved hands,
and hearts keeping time with laughter--
She nudges them just ever slightly closer,
(the stage is set, the time is right)
What a lovely thing it is
to fall in love
with the most beautiful season of all.
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