Autumn moves in swiftly in its yearly grand procession,
striping bare the trees festooned with leaves of dying brown.
Speaking to creation, calling her once more to dream in sleep
to protect her unborn children before Winter takes his throne.
The sea puts on her mantle forged in hues of green and gray
and the breeze now chills the sand that basked in balmy summer haze,
storm clouds dress the heavens as the gulls screech out their cry
as evening makes her presence felt with the shortening of days.
Fallen fruit from tree and hedgerow lies rotting on the ground
and furrowed field show ploughman’s practiced skill,
Proclaiming planted seed lies buried deep within the earth
where resurrection waits, love’s purpose to fulfil.