Grey November Orchestra

As this modest day dawns damp
The morning light remaining dark
A symphony of silence tramps
Calm and habitually remarked

The ground adorned with sodden leaves
Skies weighed heavy with tones of grey
The stubborn wind blows empty trees
The sun seems too forlorn to play

The air feels crisp to skin left bare
Sound echoes glorious in mute
Night holds beauty for those who dare
Encounter autumnal institute

Pervasive melancholy floats
Mourning the loss of warmer days
The horizon holds the tamed sun close
Too often obscured by cloudy haze

Scents cast adrift on moistened winds
Tell stories of the wooded fells
Galloping forth unto the realms
Of cobbled streets and peeling bells

Stealthy mists traverse the ground
Consuming all found in their path
Redolent appetite abound
Until day’s age brings forth its wrath

Exhibiting veiled splendour bold
Beneath the light of moon and star
Partnered in this dance of old
The Grey November Orchestra