Poem: Whispers of Fall

The wind wears scarves of crimson and gold,
Whirling secrets that trees have told.
Crisp in its voice, a whispering song,
Of summer gone, and nights grown long.

Leaves like lanterns, flicker and spin,
A final blaze before giving in.
They dance through streets in swirling grace,
Painting fire on earth’s calm face.

Smoke curls soft from distant flues,
As dusk drips slow in amber hues.
Pumpkin moons rise bold and round,
Above the hush of sleeping ground.

The apples blush, the cider steams,
The world retreats into its dreams.
A time to gather, slow the pace—
Fall draws a breath, and leaves its trace.

Each step crunches a memory near,
Each breeze holds stories we still hear.
And in this pause before the frost,
We find what’s beautiful in loss.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie