Beneath the boughs where autumn’s chill takes flight,

A silver moon bestows its gentle light.

The rustling leaves in whispered secrets blend,

As summer’s vibrant hues now softly end.

Upon the lake, a mirrored crescent gleams,

While distant stars ignite their timeless dreams.

The cricket’s song weaves through the cooling air,

A tranquil peace beyond all worldly care.

Let poets praise this scene with ink-stained hands,

Where moonlit beauty on the water stands.

For nature’s art, in silence, speaks the truest—

A gift for souls who wander weary, newest.