Chesapeake Bay

[Wjames]

I step on deck to watch the dawn,
all’s quiet on the bay,
and when the mist has burnt away is burnt right for mist? it's so damp it doesn't feel like the right word to me.
we’ll have a fine new day.

The forest wears its mantel now
of brown and gold and red,
for burning summer days have passed,
and fall is here instead.

Long delta-flights of honking geese
come back to winter homes,
and cooler winds blow on the bay,
it's time for me to roam

I'll head south to the islands now, The meter here is different and it's a bit jarring. You have pretty good ballad meter above with iambic feet, alternating. South is a stressed syllable and it doesn't ready smoothly.
warm seas and sandy cays
but next year I’ll be here again,
amongst these golden trees.

I enjoyed the light rhyming poem, it's jaunty fun.