I see them, the colors, as they change
The colors of twilight paint the sky's canvas
Blurry sun rays peaking through a cloud curtain
Leaves; crimson, gold, amber, their rustling dances.
I hear them, the merry birds of Fall,
The wind as it blows through crispy leaves,
The leaves crackling a fiery sound,
And the sweet silence of Fall eves.
I smell the rich smells of caramel brulee,
The pungent apple cider incense,
The rustic odor of flora and fauna,
And the perfume of creative romance.
I taste the feasts of a thankful Fall table,
Indulge in iconic, scrumptious flavors,
Pumpkin, toffee, butternut, and caramel,
And relish the bounty of God's favors.
I feel the caress of the chilly breeze,
My cozy, comfy writer's den,
The heat of a steaming mug of Chai,
And the bouts of creativity every now and then.