Late summer’s shadows turn to fall,
Still wakes in me a beckoned call,
To trample through the crisp dry leaves,
Aft frost from season’s first chilled breeze.
Turning what was once a forest green,
To mountains dressed in fiery sheen,
Flaunts their regal autumn cloak.
As sweet smoke rises from chimney spire,
Hangs like perfume in fall’s cool air.
It’s time like this my soul’s at ease,
A moment to ponder a bit of peace,
With one last chance to take a peek,
Ere winter turns this place to bleak.
Poem by Ktdid