The summer wanes, her warmth begins to flee;
A fading sun sinks low beyond the hill.
The fields lie still beneath a sleeping tree,
Their golden hum replaced by moonlit chill.
The grass, turned glass, shines coolly in the night;
Red, brittle leaves drift softly through the air.
Each breath I take becomes a ghostly white;
The ice holds fast, its beauty cold, yet fair.
The jagged peaks lie bare, dreaming of snow.
The water shivers, trembling with unease,
While winds rehearse the songs they soon will blow.
They know too well the breath of winter freeze.
The frost creeps in as daylight slowly fades,
Then Mother Nature’s spell as frost invades.