The splendid show of autumn leaves,
Burning bright in every hue,
What splendor in the golden eaves!
Such pomp would wear the sky anew.

Each leaf that flutters to the ground,
Whispers tales of summer’s pride,
And tells of deeper things profound,
Of heart’s sweet quest, and nature’s tide.

So in the stillness of the room,
Where memories of laughter grow,
We cherish autumn’s fleeting bloom,
Where moments wear our hearts aglow.

• Alfred Lord Tennyson