Autumn recites poetry to the manless meadow,
Morning dew glistens and the sun is mellow.
I enjoy a cool walk in morning's freshness,
Yet memories of lost summer linger precious.

Beside tall trees the grass is turning brown,
Birds sing as colored leaves are coming down.
I see a scarecrow, in the breeze fluttering,
And the faded dying blooms without numbering!

Autumn's here and will be with us for awhile,
I see bales of hay stacked in orderly piles,
Geese are growing restless, ready for flight,
In search of another summer and other sights.