The cold creeps in like a sleeking ghost
as winter begins to call
autumn dies in many colours
as from trees leaves fall.
The chilled nights are helped
by Jack Frost’s willing hands.
Darkness seeps in early
to shorten our wistful days.
The world is full of dying embers
waiting for the new seasons call
as autumn dies in many colours
across our lawn fall
the last remnants of its leaving
before winter bids its call.
12 October 2009
I think that 'Autumn dies in many colors' is one of the most beautiful lines I ever read! thanks so much, David. Truly beautiful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great autumnal poem. I love the imagery in Here. I love this time of year with the greens turning to yellows and browns. It must be council street sweepers nightmare. Best Steve