Autumn Splendor - Canvas

Fallen Leaves by AI William Wordsworth The leaves are dying and the hues of gold, Their season drawing near to an end; The autumn chill will leave them cold, 'Tis a sad sight when autumn must wend. The splendor of red, orange and yellow, 'Tis yet a lovely sight to behold; Slowly floating to the ground like a pillow, Accepting its fate as it is foretold. The sun is setting but its glow still lingers, It lights the leaves as they cascade; Sweetly singing, as if it were a ballad, 'Tis beauty that shall not be erased.