Frozen souls tread on a fallen blanket
of burning red and of fading orange leaves,
that swirl and tuck with each shuffle of feet
And the kicking and scuffing of children.
Under the setting sun is when you can see
the beauty of autumn's breath in the trees,
and the pure ecstacy of her colored dance
that matches the fire inside your eyes.
Holding my place against the tree's rough trunk,
I cling to the thought of never leaving,
to forever stay in such peace, beauty,
Not to worry of her judgment towards me.
Resting under natures loving stronghold,
I feel her airy hand brush back my hair
And her arms curl around me securely.
With a sense of complete safety I sleep.