Smell the air, crisp and clean. See the trees tall and lean
Winding roads lined in orange and red. Winter is near but without the dread.
Standing outside you watch and see the last of the brown fall to the ground.
I can hear the crunch of a squirrel nearby and the soft wind slowly cries.
Walking slowly down the dusty dirt path I feel the joy of days gone past.
Thinking of pumpkins, turkey and such; wondering why others do not feel this rush.
Quiet homes with fireplaces ablaze make this a most joyous day.
The smoke billows out and runs through the trees helped along by the little breeze.
I ponder thoughts of family and love while God keeps sending his beautiful nature glove.
Everyone please stop and take the time to enjoy this season of colors in rhyme.
I will never move from my little town with the trees, and the wind, and colors on the ground.
I cherish these days forever in time, beautiful fall in this town of mine.