I wrap my arms around you,
On this crisp, golden day,
Leaves crackle beneath our feet,
Your warmth rivals our lattes.
Pumpkin spice and cinnamon,
Twist in the brisk fall breeze,
A scarecrow stands sentinel,
Guarding the orchard with ease.
We gather the ripest apples,
Then sail fields of flowing rye,
Through rolling hills and meadows,
Under the sun’s soft, amber tide.
Though winter’s chill will soon arrive,
And frost will kiss our skin,
In our hearts, autumn’s fire burns,
A glow that warms within.