FOUR SEASONS: AUTUMN

The image above is from Far from Heaven.

This is the time of the falling leaves,
And the sheaves of gold are now gone.
All that is left for me now is to grieve
For the love that i lost in the sun.

~~

John Keats: To Autumn (from)

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells