Autumnal Elixir: The Fall of Man to Pumpkin's Spiced Embrace

In cups of steaming glory, autumn's brew

Descends upon the mortal realm, a scent

Of cinnamon and nutmeg, clove-infused,

Beguiles the senses, tempts as serpent did.

O pumpkin, gourd of paradise now lost,

Thy essence mixed with milk and sweetness pure,

Creates a potion man cannot resist.

From coffee shops, this siren song doth call,

And we, like Eve, partake of spiced delight,

Thus fall from summer's grace to autumn's arms.