Hiss, kiss, twirl and twist,
leaves falling from the tree!
Summer's over and now at last
they're loosened and they're free!
They praise the wind and sky
and pirouette quite free
they're graceful in their maiden flight
from their mother tree.
Sailing gently on the breeze,
swaying neath the sky.
They flutter gently, gracefully down,
landing with a sigh.
They touch each other on the ground,
or scatter with the breeze.
They speak in hushed and rustling tones,
gossiping about the trees.
Part of Autumn's grandeur,
played upon the breeze
is the brilliance of Fall's colors
and the whispered song of leaves.
Ron Cole
Autumn 2009 |