When songbirds flock together,
Preparing for southward flight,
And shorter days spread darkness
Into longer nights,
The wind blows pinecones from the trees
While acorns plunk to earth,
And frisky squirrels hop to and fro
Hoarding food for winter’s dearth.
The northwest wind whisks wispy clouds
Across the azure sky,
A harbinger of cold and snow
That will soon arrive.
When the frost is on the pumpkins,
And the geese fly overhead,
The trees display their autumn hues
Of yellow, orange, and red.
Tulip bulbs and daffodils
Sleep beneath the ground,
And blades of grass, still green and bright,
Jack Frost will soon turn brown.
Vibrant asters by the roadside
Displaying purple blooms,
The corn, once tall and green and proud,
Shrivels as harvest looms.
The scent of ripened apples
Hanging from laden trees,
The harvest moon glowing cool and bright
On leaves playing in the breeze.
Woolly bears, striped brown and black,
Search for a winter’s abode,
From hayrides, corn mazes, and pumpkin patches
Shouts of joy and laughter flow.
The leaves fall softly from the trees.
The dark approaches fast.
And bonfires lit to warm the night
Their dancing shadows cast.
From time to time, I attempt to write a poem. However, I am not a skilled poet. It has taken me three years to develop this poem about autumn, which I hope you will enjoy. Thanks for taking time to read it.
Photos thanks to Pixabay.com
Author Beth E. Westcott