By Thomas Moore Copyright ©2026 Autumn leans close with cinnamon on its breath, And gold leaves loosen like silk at our feet. Your hand finds mine in the orchard’s hush, Where apples blush and the dusk turns sweet. The wind undresses the trees with a sigh, While shadows warm in the amber light. I taste the season in your whispered name, A flame held soft against the night. Beneath the moon, the fields exhale, Their harvest scent wrapped deep in desire. Fall burns sl

Tammy Powers-Hall Copyright ©2026 The golden light of autumn’s day Fills every corner, warm and slow, As hands in touch, a gentle sway, We share the feast, and love grows more. The turkey’s skin, a caramel glow, The pumpkin pie, sweet as the moon, The cranberry’s crimson, deep and slow, A feast for senses, rich and true. Your breath, a whisper in the air, Like cinnamon in winter’s breath, The way you lean, the way you care, Makes every bite a tender feast. The table’s edge, w