Holding on to Autumn

Cold fresh wind through branches dance, autumn call,

Living green grows tired reaching for change;

Crimson, gold, yellow, toss, and then they fall.

Walk, crunch, crisp air throughout the hallowed mall,

Books held, cold hands, bells ring, school has begun.

Cold fresh wind through branches dance, autumn call.

Piles color the ground as if a patchwork pall,

Burn, jump or bag a pumpkin dressing up!

Crimson, gold, yellow, toss, and then they fall.

It comes again days dark at end of all,

Crisp smell of wood smoke curls round chimney warm,

Cold fresh wind through branches dance, autumn call.

North wind threatens, ice cold stars, a snow wall,

Cover memories bronzed in green asleep now,

Crimson gold, yellow, toss, and then they fall.

Time passes once again oh Sir, what gall -

Please, beauty of the day in colors keep.

Cold fresh wind through branches dance, autumn call

Crimson, gold, yellow, toss, and then they fall.