Autumn Dies In Many Colours Poem by David Harris

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