Autumn is in the air,
The sun has it's orangest glare.
Red and brown are mixed,
The old treehouse is finaly fixed.
Piles of fallen leaves are waiting,
For bundled children to come out playing.
Pumpkin pie fresh from grandma's oven,
Her's kitchen smells like heaven.
Candied apples are the special treat,
Melted caramel tastes so sweet.
Share This Poem
This Poems Story
I wrote this poem a couple years ago when my family and I took family pictures out in the woods when the tree's leaves started to change colors. Nature's beauty and my grandma's pie helped inspire me.