Golden Leaves

Autumn ushers in the golden blaze of leaf When every tree delightfully looks their best, And long shadows point with fingers brief With the sun slung on a low horizon blest. The pale days, now shorter as of late, Mark the end of summer and the eve of winters fall. Blackberries sprinkled in the hedge soon to make A feast of a pie at the end of summer ball. Night's cape draws its veil as we sit in the garden Sipping cool drinks as we did in high summer. Beginning to feel the chill wind begin to harden Our sleeveless arms. This autumn in its slumber.