The Autumn Messenger.

My heart feels sad, but not falling;
as in the distance I hear winter calling.


The messenger that brings this warning;
wears a dress of crimson and gold,
not a dark coat of mourning.


I believe it is of 'best dressed atire'
the sort of gown to which many aspire.
It fits her form perfectly,
and as she leaves it rustles,seductively.


Adorned in colours, pigments bright,
she heralds the coming of winter's night.
As her colours fade away,
she leaves a promise to return; one day.