With the birth of autumn's season
Comes a breath of things anew
Granting hopefulness and reason
For the change that will ensue
When the weather patterns weaken
And the leaves shine bold and bright
Beneath the harvest moon's beacon
On a crisp, October night.
 

In the fields, filled with great pumpkins
Residing on the frosty ground
There can be no true assumptions
Where autumn’s glory can be found
It is seen upon the faces
Of the children out to play
And in all the bustling places
That we visit every day. 

Autumn’s glory is e’er present
In our lives and in our homes
Through aromas soft and pleasant
That upon the breezes roam
In a form of lasting true ness
That we yearn from year to year
For the rich, yet stellar newness
Of the season we hold dear. 

With the birth of autumn’s season
Comes a glimpse into the dawn
Bringing hopefulness and reason
Now that summer has withdrawn
For as weather patterns weaken
And a chill is in the air
The harvest moon shall cast a beacon
Of autumn's glory, everywhere.

© 2005 - Jill Eisnaugle's Poetry Collection