PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Autumn had always been beautiful to him. To him autumn meant the beginning of rest, a time of slumber, when Nature went to sleep to catch up on its “beauty sleep.” Autumn was when he was born and when he was really raised. When the trees turned a leaf to become fire, when everything pretended to be something else as if it was a big finale act of a play before they got ready for the next one in spring. Autumn is the perfect time to go and sit under your favorite tree and read a book or sketch the leaves that fall. He loved autumn, and why shouldn’t he? Roux was a Red name for a child born in a season surrounded by red, and gold, and orange. Not only was he born in autumn, but he was born to Autumn, his mother, deceased when bearing him. He loved his mother and only wish he could’ve met her. But he knows her in the autumn, with the turning leaves and the bright blue skies that matched her, and his, eyes.