A female author pens tales of the fall,
In ink of amber, in verses that enthrall.
Before the snow brings a winter white cap
A dream cloaks her like a soft woven wrap.
In the autumn in the forest glade fairies play,
they design a scarf of colors a yarn they lay
the leaves that fall victim to their dance,
Summer’s last reunion, in a wisp, a fleeting glance.
Like a family that gathers ‘neath the golden trees,
A reunion of branches talks to the whispering breeze.
The farewell of summer, in hues so bright,
As autumn dreams of mittens in the soft twilight.
Fog descends like a mystical shroud,
and the fairies become a tranquil crowd.
In the softening edges fairies in the ethereal mist,
flit in the heart of fall, where dreams persist.
The scarf of fairies, woven in the air,
A dance of colors, beyond compare.
Finality whispers in the rustling leaves,
As the forest sighs, where the magic weaves.
Mittens beneath the boughs so grand,
and a kaleidoscope scarf woven by nature’s hand.
The farewell of warmth, wear it with a gentle nod,
In the forest glade, kissed by the colors of God.
WoPoLi 
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