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Fall
The last of October
We lock the garden gate
"The flowers alive all withered
That used to stand straight.
The last of October
We put the swings away
And the porch looks deserted
Where we like to play.
The last of October
The birds have all flown,
The screens are in the attic,
The sandpile's all gone;
Everything is put away
Before it starts to snow ---
I wonder if the ladybugs
Have any place to go.
Aileen Fisher | |||||||||||||||||||
An Autumn Day
Pumpkins in the cornfields,
Gold among the brown,
Leaves of rust and scarlet
Trembling slowly down;
Birds that travel southward,
Lovely time to play;
Nothing is as pleasant
As an autumn day!
Carmen Lagos Signes | |||||||||||||||||||
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