All the trees fly their colorful leaves
Under the cool, bright blue sky.
The smell of freshly sharpened pencils and brand-new notebooks fills the air, and
Urges for warm blankets and old movies descend upon me.
My love for this in-between season is everlasting.
Nothing like the nights that are just right crisp for a get-together under a pavilion and around a fire.
Laughter from children playing in piles of leaves brings back memories.
Each day I like to watch the little tornadoes of dead leaves swirl,
Always looking like dancing fairies,
Very fast and uncatchable as they travel down the street,
Ethereal and going to a haunted forest.
Smoke from wood fires wafts into the air, and brings the smell of ghostly times.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write an acrostic poem that celebrates your favorite season. Any word can be used, as long as it includes why you enjoy that time of year. |
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