The birds sing like a chorus of clarinets.
The branches of trees swing, applauding their performance.

Acorns fall to the soft, fall ground.
Mountains wear their snow like a crown.

Red, yellow and orange all show.
The sky has a golden glow.

Pollen fills the air and the rain wash away the summer.
Here comes the lighting and the thunder.

The sun has gone to sleep behind the clouds.
The colors of fall make mother nature proud.

The wind comes and makes its cries.
Fall is coming to new eyes.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem