Fall

The mountain king

Wears his burning crown

Of Red and Yellow

And Orange and Brown.

His Breath has changed,

Now swift, cool and sharp.

The wind through the trees,

Sweet as a harp.

The crackling leaves;

Beneath my two feet;

Is his pleasing voice

I love to meet.

The lonely road

Through the forest deep,

The king is calming

For winter’s sleep.