I hear the whispers of the trees.
They speaking about their next clothes.
While they lose their colored leaves.

I feel the last warm breeze.
A lonely wanderer here in the land.
And it tell me 'goodbye, till next year'.

I see the tired nature, that went to sleep.
Regain new strength, to be reborn next spring.
I can't wait till it comes.

I taste the last gift of the nature for this year.
The sweet wine, the sour apples and the pumpkin.
I will keep it in my mind.

The autumn show us all, that it is wonderfull.
Even if the colors faint and the cold wind blows,
we will remember it and wait.

We wait ... till the next autumn come
and the play of the autumn's melody
fill our hearts and soul with warm again.

This poem is a thank you for  Foxamoore's "Autumn Tide".

Thank you, Foxamoore.
Thank you for all your wonderful melodies.