Oh, blushing bloom of autumn’s grace,
Soft as dawn’s first whispered trace,
You rise where summer bids farewell,
A tender flame where cool winds swell.
Your petals, laced in rosy hue,
Unfurl like drops of morning dew,
Layered deep in silken streams,
A poet’s thought, a painter’s dream.
In fading light, you stand so bold,
A breath of warmth in autumn’s cold,
Your beauty sings in twilight’s glow,
A fleeting love the seasons know.
Oh, pink chrysanthemum, bright and true,
A final kiss of summer’s hue,
Through fleeting days, your petals shine,
A bloom of grace—so soft, so divine.
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