***
In golden robes the autumn dresses,
The rain has passed — and, bright and blue,
The sky once more its azure blesses,
Cool freshness fills the air anew.
And all around is crisp and clear —
September’s joy is waiting here.
***
The fading day sinks o’er the meadow,
The fields lie still beneath the grey;
The forest stands forlorn in shadow,
Its summer splendour gone away.
October now takes autumn’s throne —
The golden season’s almost flown…
***
The twilight deepens, growing colder,
The damp air chills the earth below;
The world seems darker, dimmer, older,
As winds of winter start to blow.
The waiting earth dreams of the snow,
To shield her from November’s woe.
Autumn Sketches
© Copyright: Илона Яшкина-Дашкевич, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126100200501
Свидетельство о публикации №126100200501
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