When first Autumn came,

The air turned cool, working its elemental magic.

Vivid valleys held fast as a rule,

Not swayed by change so tragic.

Dimensional clouds stilled,

The Earth turned round, slipping on its axis by degree.

And I not hearing the astral sound,

Supposed an echo o’er a galactic sea.

A leaf lingered on.

The Moon turned full, sharing the dawn with the Sun.

Though toward Summer Sol did pull.

Winter’s proxy had all but won.

Feast the Autumn then,

As stars turn clear, shining over fields at night.

Silhouetted eternities seem nearby,

Amid this soft, seasonal flight.

Etch but futile words.

The soul turns here, warming the heartfelt emotions.

By degree, we shall be the year,

The waves of our own galactic oceans.

Art: Bing AI Creator, 10-03-2023