Autumn is Coming

A foreign chill hangs in the air

And the stars glimmer in a colder way

Noses pinken behind wind blown hair

Trying in vain to keep the shivers at bay

--

Naked trees guard the road

Their branches at last exposed;

Devoid of their lush green load -

It lays at their feet, dead and decomposed

--

The cold turns eyes to glass

Turns cheeks to chilled-pink

Mellowing even the most brass

Inspiring instead the beauty to think

--

You find yourself in a painting

Of gold-yellow and trodden red

Devoid yet of winter's tainting

Into autumn you are to be led