Just For You Poetry

In autumn, the aspens turn to gold,
against the Ponderosa pine;
snow-capped mountain peaks,
in the sun's glare; they shine.

Deer come down into the meadow,
in quiet search of food and heat;
startled by the stare of humans,
they, on occasion, meet.

We are captured by the magic fall,
by the pleasant scenes we see;
the touch of coolness in the breeze,
the feel of nature's harmonies.

It takes us back to childhood,
to the jumped in piles of leaves;
the long remembered past,
that in adulthood, flees.

A season blessed with color,
a time when frost makes rounds;
months of changing weather,
in which the heart abounds.

Beautiful David, but i have to say that after 70 years i still kick up the autumn leaves...and i still collect horse chestnuts along with the youngsters in September, they deter the house spiders you know.
i always think that England is beautiful in autumn, but your poem tells me that you so many more wonderful images to see than i do in my beautiful Yorkshire

Thanks Stella,
I have to believe that your Yorkshire countryside is quite similar to that of New England, especially Vermont. Pastoral landscapes.
The above was written with the northern Arizona forests and mountains in mind. Alas, no horse chestnuts or maples here.