Flutter down with just the breeze
Once were green, Now golden brown
Sit in piles on the ground
Days are getting shorter
A nip is in the air
Winter is not long away
When woollies we will wear.
But first the whistling wind we wait
Which will blow the leaves and create
Flurries of leaves swirling around
Blocking drains and cluttering the ground
Autumn is prelude to winter cold
When we will wish again for the leaves of gold
Thinking of glorious days in the sun
That summer gave us and now are done.
by Flo Hill-Rennie