Orange leaves are falling,
Colder winds are calling.
Dreary, wet and bleak,
Yet wondrous colours
Kiss my cheek.
Yellow, red and crumbling fire
Herald ho! the antlered Sire.
He shall put the world to sleep,
And milky sunlight in his keep.
Whispering chatter in the air
Mocks the Reaper’s crispy glare.
The Dead come moving close,
Hours bite the purple rose.
Seeing nature’s final flare
Before the Reaper’s migthy stare
When trees will shed their wasted frock
The earth embraces every rock.
Gathering darkness fails the day,
Hunch-ed shoulders sulk away
Under leaden sky of Gray,
And eerie stillness holding sway.
Dearest sorrow’s life gone by,
Barren sounds the raven cry.
Conjures haunting symphonies
Of bittersweet melancholies.
(N)Euer Senf – mittelscharf, wenn’s geht