As Autumn’s breath whispers through golden leaves, Bamboo trees stand cloaked in gowns of red and gold, Beautiful Summer’s heat and green now tales of old, As nature’s hand this yearly canvas weaves. A harvest moon in silent night achieves, But a glow that speaks of stories yet untold, Bold winds through the empty fields unfold, A song of change that every heart perceives. Yet with this beauty comes a solemn sigh, For fleeting moments time will not prolong, As Winter’s chill lies waiting in the sky. So let us drink of Autumn’s fleeting song, And treasure every amber, russet dye, Before the cold descends and days grow long.