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Amber hues
A golden bruise,
a blemish to the air.
Not yet cold
but no more warmth,
Asudden modulation.

A cool breeze approaches 
the golden throne.
The trees swing and sway.
The leaves dangle
like priceless chandaliers,
and fall silently 
onto the cool ground.
No sound, no tears.
The world stands still,
the beauty captivating 
and serene.

The earth is filled with splendour.
No space is void od love.
A pigmitation amidst
a hollow world,
colouring the earth with 
magnificent hues:
scarlet, red and burgundy.

An abundance of choices:
sweet and bitter
vain and apparent.

The forest filled 
with dread and expectations,
of a friend gone
and another yet to come,
Bringing along awe
Bringing along nature,
Bringing alonf Love,
Bringing along fall
The time of harvest,
The time of romance,
The time of lost spirits
returning to their friends,
A time for festivities
and a time for fear.

Apples and nuts
honey and syrup.
Fall rewards th rich and the poor,
the peasants and the lords,
the nobles and the kings,
whether be Thanksgiving
or Simhain,
whether be to pilgrims 
or to pagan Celts.

Fall brings along treasures:
Treasures of gold,
and treasures of silver,
treasures of green, of
red and yellow.
Nature's treasures.
Priceless treasures.

We are lords and we are peasants
We are Kings and we are beggars
we are rich and we are poor
when we wittness the splendours
of fall.

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