Golden are the leaves

Golden are the leaves that are falling to the ground
While Autumn sings her melodies to everyone around
Crisp are the sounds of the leaves beneath our feet
And the cool quiet winds whisper to all who they meet.

Listen to this silence that echoes through the Fall
It's not like any other and is crying out to all
Without any fanfare, the  somberness of this time
Challenges every poet to reach out in mystic rhyme

For colors have been silenced and the trees are all bare
There is hardly any ambient for any  writer to share
If not for what is hidden and unseen by mortal eye
Autumn is the season where our spirits learn to fly.