Autumn Is Magic

A poem of hope found in the season’s change

Photo by on

Mouthwatering vistas
splashed with golden reds
oranges honey browns
bombard my senses
beneath autumn skies.

I watch for dancing sparks
of stardust to land
in sugar maple leaves
still aflutter at
the forest’s back door.

They appear as twinkling
gilt missives of hope
left preening within hushed
footprints of fairies
sprites and pixie elves.

Come join me — Won’t you please?
Let’s run with the deer
jump as high as kites fly
cuz daylight’s waning
cold winds come blowin’.

Better yet — Take my hand!
Let’s fall into fall
(yes, cliché and all)
paint ourselves crimson blue
magic’s upon us
so much still to do.