Mist Upon The Placid Morn

For the love of Nature and all it's beauty: Bleed out your beauty, Autumn –  Give up a gentle wrist, and smear  Your bloody hues atop the green. Cast a calming throw of heady peace Upon the cooling land.  And as you grant the sun a final fling of warmth,  Charge the silent air  (Now lolling on a foliar deathbed)  With earthen whiff to intimate the fungal push. Soon you’ll send a shiver down the watery spine of  Quivering ponds, punctual brooks, and Listless lakes, to warn them of the freeze to come. Behold! your mellow spirit Hanging as a mist upon the placid morn – A sight that draws a sneaking tear or two – forlorn Observers are we all of colder climes to view!  Autumn Lady, must you be the summer waning –?  Our adieu to fairer-weather life?  Ah well, at least you hum a warming tone, ensuring Nature’s rhythm still abounds.  But now you must prepare the mind for chilly times – You know the drill – Guiding us along a sloping path To ease our psyche in to sleet and snow – The blue-ice bite of winter.