Autumn Splendor - Canvas

Fallen Leaves by AI William Wordsworth

The leaves are dying and the hues of gold,
Their season drawing near to an end;
The autumn chill will leave them cold,
'Tis a sad sight when autumn must wend.

The splendor of red, orange and yellow,
'Tis yet a lovely sight to behold;
Slowly floating to the ground like a pillow,
Accepting its fate as it is foretold.

The sun is setting but its glow still lingers,
It lights the leaves as they cascade;
Sweetly singing, as if it were a ballad,
'Tis beauty that shall not be erased.