Each time when the Autumn’s upon us
as the Winter draws rapidly near,
when the leaves become browned
then fall fast to the ground.
It’s the very best time of the year.
The Fall leaves the trees free of clothing.
I can’t say quite how long that it’s been
since I gathered a heap
and lunged in with a leap
and dispersed them all over again.
In litter of Ash, Oak and Maple
it absurd to be wearing a frown.
Toss the leaves in the air
and away waft your cares
as the leaves come a-tumbling down.
They crackle and crunch when I crush them.
It’s astounding the ails it relieves
just to pounce upon piles
stacking skyward for miles –
but it isn’t much fun for the leaves.