As autumn creeps with silent grace,
A whispered chill begins to lace,
The winds that once in summer played,
Now hint at leaves that soon will fade.
The first bright yellow in the trees,
A gentle touch, a quiet tease,
Of red and orange yet to bloom,
In nature’s softly painted room.
The world it seems to slow its pace,
As if to breathe, as if to trace,
Each tiny shift, each subtle sign,
That fall is near, the earth's design.
The sun still warms, it lights my face,
But clouds approach with cool embrace,
Let’s pause, let’s be, let’s feel the sway,
Of autumn’s dance, now on its way.
In every breeze, in every hue,
A lesson learned, a truth anew—
To find the beauty in the small,
As summer yields to the call of fall.