The Early Morning Mist And Dew

The early morning mist and dew The faintest sunlight shining through, The branches of the languid trees That slowly forms this autumn frieze, With subtle shades as leaves now turn And fiery glows of amber burn, That warms the chill of breaking dawn Upon this late October morn. The silver birch in primrose stands Its trunk is flecked and striped with bands, While bracken frames this stony course That winds its way through thorny gorse, A carpet made of leaves and twigs While berries ripe on holly sprigs, Glow scarlet in the shade of night And almost hidden from my sight. The air is still so hushed the sound As leaves are falling to the ground, Like raindrops from a passing shower They gather there beneath the bower, A squirrel roams the woodland floor While searching for some food to store, Amongst the span of empty husk He seldom moves from dawn till dusk. When evening falls and shadows rest And sunlight sinks within the west, Then soon descends the cold of night Beneath the stars that shine so bright, A frost does form now winter nears That glistens like the fallen tears, Of autumn for its end is nigh As if to say its last goodbye. 30/07/08