Over the horizon birds disappear, the evening’s a glimmer now.
The sinking sun drops into Night’s inky bed.
Faint footfall fades, a lull fills the slumbering countryside.
Soon the autumnal glade will be covered in winter’s first snow.
The sinking sun drops into Night’s inky bed.
Mustn’t the weary farmer retire too, to dream of a better day-
Cornucopia, Fall’s plentiful harvest, and a magical dinner spread?
Listen, falling golden leaves hum a soothing lullaby.
Faint footfall fades, a stillness fills the slumbering countryside.
Fields lie bare, embraced by the dual dirge that flows
From the Hunter’s Moon and teary stars. It pours from the depths of the heavens.
Land’s a mesmerising yellow sea when trembling amber heaps sigh!
Soon the autumnal glade will be covered in winter’s first snow.
When that last leaf gently yields, coaxed by twirling flakes that descend
Upon bare branches. Pirouetting silver crystals descend,
Dusting evergreens, cattails, holly and mistletoe- swathing all that’s living and dead.
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