In golden hues, the autumn leaves descend,
Each one a whisper of the season's end.
They dance upon the crisp and chilly air, A tapestry of beauty, rich and rare.
With every gust, they flutter to the ground,
Creating carpets where their colors bound.
From embers red to amber's gentle glow,
They paint the earth in shades of rust and gold.
Yet in their fall, a whispered melody,
A song of change, of nature's symphony.
For as they drift upon the breeze's breath,
They signify the cycle, life and death.
So let us cherish each leaf's fleeting flight,
As autumn paints the world in pure delight.
