by Joan Adams Burchell
When gems of summer look tired and sad, we clean up
reluctantly;When autumn colours replace summer's jewels,
it happens gradually.
By the time summer's packed and put away, warm russetts
and reds catch our eye;Crimson and gold step softly
in and we haven't had time to spy.
When we watch flocks of geese flying south,
suddenly all is clear;The seasons have changed in the blink
of an eye - the fall of the year is here.
When we take a deep breath of crisp autumn air, it's a tonic
and a relief,And we know we have secretly waited for this -
the season that's hallowed, but brief.
Stately spruce, green balsam and
pine accentuate amber and cream;And when coloured leaves
float silently down they're a blanket on which we can dream
Of pumpkin and spice, and family, gathered around the fire,
Mesmerized by autumn's treasures - all that a heart could desire.