Autumnal

"A melody whispers through the trees in the Autumnal season. A colorful song, a sing along, and nature's beauty is the reason." ~ by poet In the night, a mellow mist softly veiled verdant meadows, and over valleys it hailed. But in dawning skies, sunshine prevailed. His golden rays warmed the lands, and it was trusted to him for safe keeping. Leaves rustled from gentle winds sweeping as willow branches began their weeping. Autumnal changes made many demands. Tree limbs are bare in this season of the year. They seem to be desolately sad and drear as though gloomy, in mourning they appear. In a flux of malaise is a grove of elms. Pumpkins are being harvested in fields. Maize and wheat crops giving abundant yields. Scythes, the tools, the farmer now wields. With a chromatic palette, Autumn overwhelms. Upon heavy boughs, ripened apples teeter. The early harvest produces those much sweeter. These things I see and write in poetic meter. I see migratory birds flapping their wings. Daylight dims much sooner in this season. Mother Nature's calendar is the reason the night air has a chill that I find quite pleasin.' What breathtaking landscapes, Autumn brings. Shades of crimson, burnt umber and gold covers hillsides with hues so strikingly bold. Blazing, like flames of fire, the colors unfold. The scent of oak woodsmoke fills the air. Keats' 'To Autumn,' speaks of "swelling the gourd." Squirrels are scurrying to collect acorns to hoard, and we'll have a feast in thanksgiving to our Lord. Autumnal glory has a vivid flare beyond compare.