Autumn’s sigh cradles summer’s glow, in memories, love’s warm hearth we know.

The summer’s glow, now but a spark,
A ember in the hearth’s dark.
Yet in the crimson, gold, and brown,
We find the echoes of the sun.

The wind, a ghost through barren trees,
Sings lullabies of summer’s ease.
We wrap ourselves in layers thick,
A shield against the winter’s trick.

But in the quiet, in the cold,
There’s comfort in the stories told.
Of laughter shared ‘neath summer’s light,
Of hands that held us through the night.

The seasons turn, the world stands still,
Yet in our hearts, the warmth distills.
For every end is but a start,
A cycle of the soul’s own art.

So let the frost and ice descend,
We’ll find the sun in memories’ end.
For in the cozy, quiet grace,
Lies love’s enduring, warm embrace.