softly as she brushes the trees
A daub of yellow,
a hint of orange from her brush
Late August nights
sending a cool breeze.
Taking her time... not in a rush
Foggy mists drift
silent above the ground
Crickets and Locusts making
their unforgettable sound giving
Autumn makes her subtle hints
in whispers of what's to come
And the days pass giving
her still a warm welcome
Without a care
she waltzes across the land.
In sunlight and shadows
from mountains to sand
Bringing her brush
and whispers to every soul
Is her one and only intended goal.
By Bonnie Ray 2006
All rights protacted
Used with permission
