In October's quiet, sober and still,
Autumn's breath whispers, with a gentle thrill,
Leaves of crimson, gold, and copper spill,
A melancholy beauty, on vale and hill.

The world dons a cloak of amber and brown,
As the year's end draws near, with solemn renown,
In October's grasp, we're humbly bound,
To reflect on life's journey, as we're spellbound.

With days growing shorter,...