So sweetly the faint smell appears, natures' perfume, her sweet aromatic embrace.
So moist is the air, that brushes my cheeks, like natures' caressing lips.
In all the world,
The winds turn cold,
As the nights get longer,
And the green leaves turn gold,
Nothing is more peaceful,
Than seeing the scene that nature molds,
It seems just for me,
But i shouldn't be so bold,
Everything time touches,
Eventually turns from young to old.
Copyright © Daniel Ashcraft