There is something so inconceivably enchanting about Autumn,
The way the trees shed their miseries and prepare themselves to start again;
How the leaves, in alluring shades of autumnal red and yellow,
A fiery spectrum of comfort and warmth and everything in between,
Crunch beneath the soles of your feet.
The icy breath of the midnight sky bites your nose,
While the rain descends inexhaustibly, attempting to cleanse this city of its sins.
There is nothing more bittersweet than the first sip of coffee in the morning,
Just as the harvest sun climbs to its zenith, caressing the world.
Autumn is rich with the scent of old books,
The fleecy embrace of a knitted jumper,
The nostalgic being of a faded picture.
As the seasons begin to change and the leaves begin to fall, we will pick ourselves up
And we will start all over again.