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Poem

Autumn begins with a September chill;
when Jack Frost colors canopies of green.
And you will no longer require sunscreen;
although Summer's waning warmth lingers still.

Gold, scarlet, and orange dapple the trees;
juxtaposed by scarecrows in muddy fields.
My garden, stripped of the bounty it yields,
attracts far fewer butterflies and bees.

Children take up jumping into leaf piles;
the Fall air, ringing with laughter and joy.
And it's more fun than playing with a toy;
as evident by ubiquitous smiles.

October's a time for celebration;
giving thanks for the bounty of the land.
And more than other seasons, Autumn's grand;
a tribute to Death through coloration.

October ends its reign on Halloween;
when in disguise, kids ask strangers for treats.
And carving pumpkins, masks, and ghosts from sheets;
Halloween is anything but routine.

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