Sweet whispering wind through the sighing of trees.
Whipping your hair, while we dance and we fall through the red and gold leaves.
Jumping and tumbling, laughing in play
Throwing them upwards and they float and twirl away.
Fruit of eden ripe and heavy, eager for your hand,
Crisp and sweet as they fill you up inside,
Until all that is left is the delectable essence at the crooks of your mouth,
And the cores that lay scattered over the leafy earth.
A glacial breeze blows as the sun shines its last
The evening rays of warmth in pink and gold,
Painting the hills in a myriad of color,
As we slowly walk home in sweet October.