As cold autumn winds strip the trees,
Melancholy days have arrived.
Most flowers, already are frosted brown,
Though mums are the last to survive.
There's lots of fog on the windows,
As the shorter days lose their light.
The year has changed into its wine,
When our days are shadowed by night.
Flowers, butterflies, trees and bees
Have all gone dormant 'till the spring.
Dead leaves rustle as children play,
In the absence of birds that sing.
Winter to spring, spring to summer,
It's time for those fall symphonies.
The leaves all plummet to the ground,
As the wind plays tunes with the trees.