Under the virgin vanilla sky,
Splatter a few dollops of butterscotch
Melting on the caramel hues of bare sentinels
Brazenly beckoning the ochre autumn skies.
Sprinkle a few drops of red
On the expansive canvas of the welkin,
Sketch out a sleepy sun out yonder
In a few dribbles of orange-gold tones.
Then scribble with the dark ink
A few birds, flying homeward bound.
Let the colours of the eve gradually
Meld into the shades of the starry night.
Suspend a caliginous haze
Over the vista, let it hang enraptured
Over the many yellowed strewn leaves
Littering the serpentine pathways to home.