One New England Morning In Autumn

Laying with my eyes still closed, I know he morning has come, For I can smell the sweet perfume, That only a morning in Autumn has brung. The sweet mixture of the flowers and fruit, Lay heavily in the air, And the dampness on the grass and leaves, Are reflecting the sun's glare. I need not peer through my window, To see this Autumn day, For I know there lies a host of scenes, Of many a colorful array. In every yard and roadside, Are painted red and yellow leaves, That sway and dance so slightly, With the touch of a wind swept ease. The scents of Autumn inspire me, And make my spirit yearn, For this time again next year, When Autumn takes it turn.