Autumn
The coldness bites again,
Chasing away the close summer air.
The frost is coming fast now,
Little hands not to be caught unprepared.
The lush greens of sunshine,
The warm orange and golden glows,
Replaced by crisp Browns and reds,
Children dream of the not to distant snow.
But this is not why I love autumn.
It is Not the fires with ember glowing,
It is not the trick or treaters
Collecting sweets with cheeks All Rosey.
Autumn is when I met you, little man.
The season my world was made.
When I first heard you cry and mum became a Nan,
When I held you close and promised I'd always love you like it I do today.
So, little prince, when you ask where the warmth has gone,
And why the leaves must fall,
The answer is simple angel,
The warmth left the sky the trees are bare,
But that's because my heart is full.
By Staci Croxton
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