AUTUMN

Come Little Leaves

"Come, little leaves,"
Said the wind one day,
"Come over the meadows
With me, and play;
Put on your dresses
Of red and gold;
Summer is gone,
And the days grow cold."

Soon as the leaves
Heard the wind's loud call,
Down they came fluttering,
One and all;
Over the meadows
They danced and flew,
Singing the soft
Little songs they knew.

Dancing and flying
The little leaves went;
Winter had called them
And they were content-
Soon fast asleep
In their earthy beds,
The snow laid a soft mantle
Over their heads.
~By the American poet George Cooper (1838–1927) ~

AUTUMN

As summer draws its final breath
To prepare its curtain call
The monarchs begin their epic trek
To usher in the fall

The northern wind breathers out its chill
As songs begin to hush
And paints the trees upon the hill
With its artist's brush

From green to red, orange and brown
The trees discard their masks
And lay them gently upon the ground
For us to begin our tasks

Autumn makes way for winter's reign
We bid farewell old friend
Till summer's warmth begins to wane
And fall returns again.
~ Author Unknown ~