Warm breath upon cold window panes,
October's drawing boards,
Well-shaped peekholes making frames,
For little eyes to see outdoors.
Yellow leaves dance to the ground,
Mixed with oranges and reds,
Then brownish leaves come tumbling down,
Like crumbling ginger-bread.
The earth, it seems, changed over night,
To warming, nut-brown hues,
The bite at night ... a pure delight,
All signs that Winter's due.
Small, wary birds gird-up to leave,
Busy squirrels pack their nests,
Curling smoke from chimneys seen,
Earth withdrawing ... time to rest.
Not quite Winter, though Summer gone,
Fall leaves are nature's treasure,
The Lord's carpeting, laid down,
To bring small folk much pleasure.
The child in all comes out to play,
In those wondrous leaves of Fall,
With Winter just a day away,
Come quick ... before snowfall.