The brooks along the path line
Red autumn leaves float along the chilly ravine
The wind bites the tender skin
The sun disappears early now
Replaced by roaming dark clouds of flaky snow
The evergreen covered in frosting
How lovely pumpkin pie tastes
Along side a companion of pumpkin coffee
Adding a dollop of cream
Paws prints in the white blanket
Who could make small and dainty little prints?
One would think of deer more than bears
Still, a lovely time to take a break
From the heat and scorch of the summer sun
To wait again to warm our souls
