The wind is rushing like a river through the tree’s
The rain drives so hard it’s impossible to see.
Leaves scatter like snow as the autumn crashes in
It’s time for mother nature to shed her old skin.
In the valleys and turns, on the hedgerows grow
The fruits of first harvest, an autumnal glow.
A wild bounty is framed in an opulent green
Nuts hang like gifts on a majestic Christmas tree.
A vast blaze of colour, cross mountain and plain
Yellow, brown, orange, rusted red flames.
Gods painter’s have been here, dancing over the brush
Kissing each leaf with a hot brethren touch.
Leaves dance the tornado across forest floors
Wild pigs sniff for mushrooms, cracking dry leaves galore.
The air is crisp now, small animals hide
To snuggle up tightly, through cold winter time.